Behind Pretty Eyes
by jordan parrish
Summary: Love does that. It changes us. [book #1]
1. The New Kid

chapter one:  
_the new kid_

* * *

I always had an odd feeling that there was something strange about the small Californian town of Beacon Hills.

I was only in the fourth grade when my family moved here, but I had felt it; a foreign prickling on my skin and a chill that's never quite left me. It was like an aura that encased the town and hung in the atmosphere.

Unexplained fires, unsolved murders, mysterious disappearances — all kinds of weird phenomena that no one could seem to make sense of.

Flash forward to four years later, when I was in the eighth grade; when my brother's behavior started to change. The awkward, antisocial sophomore I once knew had done a complete three-sixty and transformed into a whole new person. Scott became the lacrosse team captain, began spending time with the town outcast, Derek Hale, was frequently absent from school, and rarely returned home most nights. It was nearing the end of the school year when Scott — against Derek's better judgment — finally told me the truth.

The town bookstore was only a few blocks from our house, and I had been walking back from it one night when this scaly blue, human-sized lizard dropped down onto the sidewalk, blocking my path. I backed away slowly as its eyes glowed in the darkness, but yelled out when the tail wrapped around my ankle and pulled me to the ground.

Then Derek and Scott were there, fighting it off with their own set of glowing eyes and a pair of claws. Once it had disappeared into a sewer drain, Scott was forced to explain, and I later aided in telling our mom.

We all thought it was over when Jackson left for London . . . but then there were alphas, hunters, a Darach, and Oni. Allison and Aiden were killed, and Isaac and Ethan left Beacon Hills shortly after.

Beacon Hills was crawling with the supernatural, and this was just the beginning.

* * *

"You always make us late," I complained from the backseat of Stiles' blue jeep as he pulled into a parking spot. "I have a biology test first period."

Stiles looked back at me through the rear view mirror, shutting off the car. "It's a long walk to school from your house, McCall."

I narrowed my chocolate-colored eyes at him. "Are you threatening me, Stilinski?"

"Nope, just making an observation." Stiles grinned, exiting the jeep.

"You do kind of drive like an old lady," Scott spoke up, getting out as well. He folded his seat down and helped me climb out.

"There's a difference between driving _responsibly_ and driving like an old lady," Stiles stated matter-of-factly, offering a hand to Malia as she began to climb out too. She swatted it away, getting out on her own.

"I'm with Joey," she said, slinging her bag over shoulder, and I grinned in triumph. "We have a Calculus quiz this morning, Stiles, and I need time to review. Lydia's notes don't make any sense."

"I'll come over tonight to help you study for the test tomorrow," he responded as we walked toward the front entrance of Beacon Hills High School.

"Hey, don't forget we have tryouts after school today," Scott said suddenly, reminding me that I would have to sit on the hard lacrosse field bleachers for two hours while he showed up the freshmen.

"Don't worry, Kira and I are being forced to attend too," Malia assured, noticing the unpleasant expression on my face.

Stiles raised a dark eyebrow at her. "Forced?"

"You guys have to stop letting Stiles drive," Lydia declared, meeting us at the doors before Malia could reply. "I've been waiting for twenty minutes."

Scott shrugged. "He won't listen to reason."

"_What_ is wrong with my driving?" Stiles exclaimed, dramatically throwing his arms in the air.

Malia laughed and pushed Stiles into their classroom, Lydia following behind.

Since Scott and I both had first period on the second floor, we continued down the hall and up the stairs together. We were about halfway up when two boys who had been going down stopped next to us. I could identify the blond-haired one, Garrett (he's attached at the hip with his girlfriend, Violet), but I didn't recognize the one with darker hair.

I looked up just in time to catch his eyes, as they flickered from Scott to me.

I blushed, self-consciously tucking a lock of hair behind my ear.

"Hey, McCall, nervous about tryouts?" Garrett asked, a hint of a taunt in his cocky tone.

I felt my blush deepen as the dark-haired boy gave me a slow once-over, and I resisted the urge to pull my dress down when his gaze lingered on my bare legs. When he raised his light green eyes back to mine, a gentle smirk touched his face. I responded with a shy smile.

"I'm the captain, Garrett," Scott replied in a polite manner. His voice brought me back to their conversation. "What do I have to be nervous about?"

Garrett only grinned, like he had knowledge of something Scott didn't, and clapped the boy with the light green eyes on the shoulder. "This is Liam Dunbar, he just transferred from Devenford Prep. He's trying out today, too."

"Hey, I'm Scott," Scott said.

"I know." Liam's tone sparkled with admiration. "I mean, everyone does, right? You made team captain as a sophomore."

Scott smiled, but didn't miss it this time when Liam's eyes slid over in my direction once again.

"This is my sister, Joey," he introduced. Liam's full attention was back on me, and the fact that I could still feel the faint remainder of a blush on my cheeks wasn't doing anything to help my situation.

"We're going to be late," I announced hastily, facing Scott. "And I have a biology test. We'll see you guys at tryouts."

I grabbed my brother's arm, pulling him along with me as I leapt up the last couple of steps.

* * *

"Why the _hell_ are you even worrying about this?" Stiles asked Scott as they walked out of the main building toward the lacrosse field with me trailing behind them. "You're still the captain. We have like, a hundred and seventeen _million_ problems, and I promise you, our status on the team is not one of them."

Scott wasn't convinced. "Coach said all positions are open. _All_ positions, Stiles. How do _you_ interpret that statement?"

Stiles rolled his brown eyes, but didn't respond as we reached the field. On one side, there were a few boys warming up — passing and running drills, but the other side of the field was what drew our attention. There was a masked boy in goal, his body tense as he clutched his lacrosse stick. Garrett and another player I didn't recognize were hurling ball after ball at him, but he moved swiftly, catching each one.

"Who the hell is _that_?" Stiles demanded, eyes trained on the goalie.

My own eyes widened as he removed his helmet. "Liam," I said aloud, completely surprised at his abilities.

Stiles shot me a sharp look. "Who?"

"Liam Dunbar," Scott elaborated, gesturing at him with his stick. "He's a new transfer. We met him this morning."

I shifted my focus back to Liam, gazing attentively at him as he chatted with Garrett. With a tall, lean build, anyone could see that Liam was definitely an athlete. They switched to passing a ball back and forth, and I found myself watching the way Liam's muscles moved under his gray Nike pullover.

He happened to glance over in our direction, his light green eyes going right past Scott and Stiles to settle on me. He smirked and I immediately looked away, my cheeks warming.

"What was that?" Stiles' tone was accusatory.

I crossed my arms nonchalantly. "What was what?"

"_Liam_," Stiles hissed, his words laced with disdain. "The way he just looked at you," Stiles took a glance over his shoulder, "the way he _keeps_ looking at you . . . I don't like it. I don't like _him_."

"Stiles—," Scott began.

"McCall, Stilinski, let's go!" Coach Finstock boomed. "We're running the mile! Let's go, let's go!" He blew his whistle incessantly while yelling at them to move faster.

I sighed and walked over to the bleachers, dropping onto a bench near the bottom. Kira and Malia joined me ten minutes later, taking a seat on either side of me just as the last of the boys finished running. Liam had come in first — somewhere around six minutes — but he didn't stop to rest like the others. He went straight into push-ups.

"Good, Liam!" Coach praised.

I realized the bench was shaking beneath us, and I looked at Kira, who was biting her lip and bouncing her leg as she stared out at the field. Malia met eyes with me, probably smelling the anxiety emitting from her.

"What's wrong with you?" Malia questioned bluntly. "You reek of anxiety and it's very distracting."

Kira looked reluctant.

"What's going on, Kira?" I prodded in a gentler tone. In my peripheral vision, the boys were forming a line for the next part of tryouts – scoring a goal. Coach Finstock's motto? If you couldn't get a ball in the net, you couldn't play lacrosse.

Kira (vaguely) explained what happened between her and Scott after first period.

"What do you want it to be?" Malia asked.

Kira looked thoughtful for a moment before confessing, "More."

My attention was called back to the field by the sound of laughter. Stiles was walking back to the end of the line while Liam stepped forward and scooped up a ball. He smiled to himself before gliding forward, his arm arcing in the air as he whipped the ball toward the goal. It flew past the goalie and hit the net with force.

"Yes, Liam!" Coach Finstock cheered. "_That_ is what I'm talking about, people!"

Liam beamed and caught my eyes, my chocolate-brown clashing with his light green. I blushed (Jesus Christ, why couldn't I _stop_?) and Liam bit his lip before jogging to the end of the line.

Scott was up next, and he threw the ball the same as Liam had, but instead of going into the goal, it ricocheted off one of the posts with a _clink_. The boys broke out into laughter again, and I felt just as confused as Scott looked.

"Nice, McCall," Garrett mocked, still chuckling. Even though the blond-haired cretin wasn't looking at me, I still directed a scowl at him.

After Stiles ordered Garrett to shut up, the tryout continued. While Liam scored consistently – every time his turn came around, actually – Scott and Stiles _missed _consistently, each ball flying over or past the goal.

"Isn't the captain supposed to be one of the best players on the team?" Kira whispered, watching as another one of Scott's balls soared past the net. "Or good?"

"Yeah," I answered quietly, still trying to figure out what was going on with him. "He's supposed to be."

Coach Finstock called for a water break, which all the players took immediate advantage of. As everyone else headed for their drink or toweled off, Stiles brought Scott into a hushed conversation a few feet away, and I observed them for a moment as they talked. I was just about to lose interest when I caught a glimpse of Scott's glowing red eyes.

I followed his glare to Liam, who was being swarmed by some seniors.

I instantly pushed off the bench and stalked onto the field.

"What do the two of you think you're doing?" I asked as I joined them.

"Stay out of it, Joey," Stiles said dismissively.

"No, Stiles, I will not 'stay out of it'," I argued firmly, stopping him and Scott from walking away. I hated when they treated me like a child.

Scott sighed. "Joey—,"

"Are you planning on hurting Liam?" I cut to the point, not in the mood to listen to whatever bullshit they would try and spin. They exchanged a look, but remained silent. "_Are_ you?" I pushed.

"No," Scott answered quickly, locking eyes with me. "Of course not."

"Why do you care so much, anyways?" Stiles demanded.

"What do you have against him?" I countered, crossing my arms.

Stiles narrowed his eyes. "Don't you think it's a little strange how Liam caught every shot earlier?"

"He was in goal, Stiles!" I whisper-shouted. He was being absolutely ridiculous. "He was the _goalie_, the balls aren't _supposed _to get past him."

"He didn't miss one_ single_ shot, Joey," he whisper-shouted back at me. "And, he didn't transfer from Devenford Prep—he was expelled."

My eyes widened in disbelief. "What did you do, _interrogate_ him?"

Before either of them could answer, Coach was blowing that stupid whistle again.

I went back to my seat between Kira and Malia, while the boys huddled in front of Coach Finstock. I was positive that I was emitting my own scent of anxiety as Coach ordered Scott and Stiles to cover goal for two-on-one's.

They complied, grabbing their helmet, gloves, and a longer stick. I anxiously bit the inside of my cheek and fiddled with the sleeves of my cardigan as they shifted into a defensive stance, like a bull before it was about to charge.

The whistle sounded, and Garrett ran toward Scott and Stiles. He pivoted around both Stiles and Scott, but at the last moment, Scott knocked Garrett's stick to the ground.

"That's how you do it!" Finstock was yelling. "That's how it's _done_!"

Player after player went up against the two, but Stiles and Scott shouldered them down each time.

And then came the next person in line.

Liam.

The anticipation in the air was almost palpable as he charged forward. He faked out Stiles, narrowly dodged Scott, and twirled, whipping the ball into the goal. The people in the stands behind us cheered, and I let out a heavy sigh of relief, dropping my head into my hands.

"That was luck!"

I snapped my head up at Malia's shouting. She was standing now, shouting out to Coach Finstock. I hadn't even known she was paying attention.

I felt panic grip me as she cupped her hands around her mouth. "Do over!"

"Sweetheart, there are no 'do overs'." Finstock mocked. "This is a tryout."

Malia wasn't ready to back down. The characteristic just wasn't in her nature. "Ten bucks on Scott and Stiles."

"I'll take that action," Coach conceded. "Get back in there, Liam!"

Malia smiled happily and sank back down while dread enclosed me. This wasn't going to end well.

Liam looked more determined than I had seen him throughout the entire tryout as he stared down Scott, who looked equally determined.

I jumped as the whistle blew, and Liam rushed forward once again. Just like the first time, he faked out Stiles, but _un_like the first time, he didn't make it past Scott.

I gasped as Scott rammed him, sending Liam over his shoulder, who hit the ground with a _crunch. _

Oh, God.


	2. No Need For Contributions

chapter two:  
_no need for contributions _

* * *

Everything was still for a moment. No one moved or spoke as Liam slammed to the ground.

Then he cried out in pain, and it was like someone pressed play on a paused movie.

I was on the field within a few seconds, standing beside my bewildered brother, who couldn't seem to comprehend what he had just done.

I bit my lip, feeling helpless as I watched Liam groan and roll onto his stomach, struggling to get to his knees.

"Nobody move!" Finstock ordered as he rushed over. "Don't touch him!"

"I'm okay, Coach," Liam attempted to reassure, but there was a tight strain to his voice. "I'm alright."

I winced when Liam yelled out in pain as Scott and Stiles helped him to his feet, slinging one of his arms around each of their shoulders.

"I think we should take him to the nurse," Stiles said, and Coach nodded in agreement.

"The _nurse_?" I echoed incredulously, all eyes shooting in my direction. My concern for Liam was the only thing keeping the self-conscious blush off my cheeks. "Stiles, he might have a broken ankle. He needs to go to the _hospital_."

"Yeah . . .," Stiles trailed off slowly, obviously seeing my point. "I'll drive."

* * *

"We had a lacrosse accident. His name is Liam Dunbar and he might have a broken ankle," Scott was explaining to the secretary at the front desk of the hospital, alongside Stiles.

Liam was leaning on the wall across from us, clenching and unclenching his fists as he stared pensively at the floor.

I hesitantly walked over to him, leaning beside him. "How are you doing?" I asked, my voice quiet.

A curt, bitter laugh escaped his lips. "Great," he muttered sarcastically, his eyes still glued to the linoleum floor of the hospital. "Thanks for asking."

I bit the inside of my cheek, regretting my decision to come over here. He was obviously angry and not in the mood to make conversation.

Wanting to give him some time alone, I pushed off the wall, intending to head back over to the receptionist desk when Liam grabbed my hand.

"Hey, I'm sorry," he said gently, pulling me back to my previous position against the wall. "Asshole seems to be my default setting today."

I allowed a small smile to curve at my lips. "It's okay," I whispered, my cheeks warming with color as I took notice of just how close we were.

I swallowed nervously, easing the sudden dryness in my throat. The silence between us was suddenly very suffocating.

"I—um, I heard somewhere that sometimes human contact can help with pain," I said. "Not that it's scientifically proven or anything," I rambled, my heart thrumming in my chest as Liam's hand seemed to burn in mine. "And now that I think about it, it actually sounds pretty ridiculous—especially when you say it out loud."

I watched as Liam's expression changed from content to amused within seconds as he stared at me with glimmering green eyes.

"What?" I murmured, feeling self-conscious under his gaze.

"Do you always talk this much?" he asked, tilting his head to the side as he continued to study me.

"Not usually, no," I answered, my cheeks glowing redder than Scott's werewolf eyes. "I actually have terrible, Titanic-sized conversational skills. I swear, my social anxiety is past the Stilinski limit. My mom thinks it's just a phase and I'll grow out of it since I used to always grow out of my baby clothes so fast and—_I'm totally doing it again_."

Despite the circumstances, a small laugh left Liam's throat. "You're cute."

I bit into my lower lip out of nervous habit, not knowing what to say. "You're shaking," I commented instead, soothing my thumb over his knuckles. I felt him shiver under my touch.

Liam's eyes were on my mouth. "I think it's all this human contact," he murmured wittily.

"Kids?" a voice I would know anywhere spoke up, breaking me out of my Liam-induced trance.

"Um, hey, Mom," Scott greeted sheepishly, and I offered a small wave with my free hand.

Moments later, Liam was lowering himself into a wheelchair while I stood back with Scott and Stiles.

"It's going to be okay, Liam," she said softly, glancing warily at me before pushing him down the hall.

I hugged my cardigan closer to my body, staring after the pair until they were no longer in my line of sight.

"I have to get going," I heard Stiles say behind me. "I promised to meet Malia and help her study."

"I remember," Scott said tonelessly, like he was detached from the conversation. "I want to check on Liam, anyway."

I felt my skin rise in temperature. What right did he have to see Liam at all?

"I don't need to say this isn't your fault, do I?" Stiles questioned, and I whirled around, having heard enough.

"You're kidding me, right?" I exclaimed, narrowing my eyes as I looked from Stiles to Scott and back again.

They both appeared to be surprised at my sudden outburst. It out of character for me, but the way Liam had made my heart race moments ago seemed to outweigh the respect and loyalty I held for them. And for a moment, that thought terrified me.

"Joey, what—,"

I cut Stiles off with a disbelieving head shake. "I can't even _look _at the two of you right now, much less _listen_ to how you're going to spin this to make yourselves feel better about what just happened."

I glared for a second longer before spinning on my heel and heading off in the direction Mom had wheeled Liam.

Beacon Hills Hospital was like my second home, and I navigated through the different sections easily, locating Liam's room within a few minutes. I heard more than one voice inside, and I lingered in the hallway upon noticing the doctor was still attending to him.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" I heard the doctor ask.

"I went up against two juniors, trying to impress this girl," Liam mumbled in response. "Her brother is captain of the team."

My eyes widened slightly at Liam's words.

"Liam, remember what we always say: play smart, not hard."

There was a pause before Liam spoke again. "Are you mad at me?"

They ventured into more personal territory, and it dawned on me that Liam's doctor wasn't _just _his doctor. I realized belatedly that I shouldn't have been eavesdropping, but I was already here, and I knew I wouldn't be able to build up the courage to come back if I left.

I fiddled with the sleeves of my cardigan as I waited anxiously for Liam's doctor-slash-possible-step-father to leave the room, and I took a deep breath before I went in.

Liam raised his eyes from his swollen ankle upon my entrance. My pulse quickened as I met his gaze.

"It doesn't hurt nearly as bad as it looks," he joked feebly, attempting to keep the mood light.

"Is it . . .?" I trailed off, not being able to get the words out.

"Broken?" Liam finished with a sigh. "Yeah, it is."

"Is that all you know?" I inquired gently, placing myself in the padded chair beside the hospital bed.

"For now," he answered, and I blushed as he grabbed my hand with both of his. He pulled it into his lap, his thumbs running over my palm and knuckles, sending little electric sparks up my arm. "I won't know anything else until I have an x-ray done," Liam muttered, looking away from me. "I might be out for the rest of the season."

I allowed my eyes to wander away as well, guilt attacking me from every angle.

"Liam," I began slowly, hesitantly touching my fingers to his jaw to have him look at me. He clenched it, bringing his eyes back to mine. "I'm sorry."

"Why? You didn't break my ankle," he stated bitterly, and then after seeing my reaction, "sorry, that wasn't fair."

"It's okay," I amended quickly. "You have a right to be angry."

"Yeah," he agreed. "But not at Scott. I know this is my fault. Scott's captain of the team and I . . . I was in over my head."

I sent him a small smile. "Happens to the best of us."

He laughed in response, and I decided it was one of the best sounds in the world. "Me more than others."

Sudden movement outside the room drew my eyes. Scott was there, and he inclined his head upon gaining my attention, silently gesturing for me to join him.

I huffed dejectedly and looked back to Liam, who was staring down at my hand in his. I retracted it. "I'll be right back."

He nodded, his light green eyes burning into me as I made my way across the room.

"Thanks," he voiced unexpectedly as I reached the doorway. I paused, casting him a questioning look. "For calming me down out in the waiting room," he explained. "And . . . keeping me calm in here."

I turned away, confident my cheeks were glowing pink. "You're welcome."

"Hey," Scott acknowledged me as I met him in the hallway. He was hesitant, carefully avoiding my eyes. "How is he?"

I sighed and crossed my arms. "His ankle is definitely broken, but he still needs an x-ray to know more. He could be out for the rest of the season."

Scott continued to look down at the linoleum floors. "The season that hasn't even started yet."

I felt my defenses give way to his remorseful expression. God, I was the worst sister on the planet. "I'm sorry for what I said earlier, Scott," I whispered, shamefully dropping my eyes to my ballet flats.

"It's okay, I understand why you said it," Scott began, his tone soft as we finally locked eyes. "You were worried about Liam."

"I was," I admitted sheepishly with a dainty shrug. "What you did was really irresponsible, not to mention out of character, Scott. You could have seriously hurt him, possibly putting him in that wheelchair permanently."

"I know," Scott replied quietly. "Being captain is important to me, but not as important as another person's life. There are enough people getting killed in Beacon Hills . . . I don't need to be making any contributions."

"People not power," I said, smiling faintly as I recalled what Ethan had once told Aiden. _Scott doesn't care about power . . . he cares about people._

Scott chuckled and my smile grew wider. Then Scott's ringtone was filling the comfortable silence that had stretched between us.

He dug it out, glancing at the caller ID before pressing it to his ear. "Hey, Lydia. Okay, slow down." I presented Scott with confused look as he stared at me with worried eyes. "I'm here. I'm at the hospital, too."

"What is it, Scott? What's wrong?" I asked after he hung up.

"Sean," he started urgently. "Sean Walcott. Do you remember what floor Mom said he was on?"

"Yeah, the top floor. She went to check on him after leaving Liam," I told him. "Why, what did Lydia say?"

"Go back in the room," Scott said abruptly, backing away, looking like his mind was elsewhere. "Go back in the room and don't come out until I get back."

"Wait, Scott—,"

"_Go_, Joey!" he ordered before running off, leaving me alone in the empty corridor.

I simply stood there for a minute, attempting to process something of anything that had just unfolded before hastily pulling out my iPhone and dialing Lydia's number. I tucked a piece of my chocolate-brown hair behind my ear as I waited anxiously for her to pick up. I dialed a second time after it went to voicemail. After my third call went unanswered, I sighed and put my phone away.

Finding myself at a loss, I turned around, figuring I should listen to Scott and go back in the hospital room.

I yelped in fright as I ran right into Liam's hard chest. With quick athletic reflexes, he reached out and placed his hands on my hips to steady me.

"Are you okay?"

My nerves tingled as I felt the warmth of his hands sear through my dress. "Yeah," I breathed, stepping back out of his touch. "What are you doing out here? You shouldn't be putting weight on your ankle."

"I thought I heard something," he muttered distractedly, looking down the hall. "Did you?"

I followed his gaze, but saw nothing. "No," I murmured, confused. "I didn't hear anything."

I glanced in the other direction, gasping loudly at the sight of Sean, his mouth and t-shirt covered in blood. Liam paralyzed in the doorway, staring shell-shocked at the blond-haired boy as he bared his razor sharp teeth at us.

"Back in the room," I stammered out, pushing frantically at Liam's brick wall of a chest. "Back in the room. Liam, back in the ro–," I screamed as Sean grabbed me around the waist, slamming me into the opposite wall. His hands went around my throat and I grasped his wrists as I struggled to get free.

I was dropped into darkness within seconds.

* * *

I heard a voice.

It was distant and I was unable to understand what it was saying.

My temple was against something cold, and I groaned as it throbbed painfully.

A gentle hand touched my shoulder. "She hit her head after she passed out, but other than that, I think she's okay."

It was Mom. Who was she talking to?

"Joey."

_Scott_.

"Josephine, can you hear me?"

I slowly opened my eyes, blinking rapidly as their faces came into focus above me.

A fleeting image of bright white eyes flashed in my memory and I shot up, gasping for air. I realized I had been laying on the floor, unconscious.

"Joey, are you okay?" Scott asked, kneeling before me as I sat back against the wall. "What happened?"

"Sean," I said, my voice hoarse. "Sean, he—," My lips parted.

_I thought I heard something. _

"What, Joey?"

"Liam," I managed, looking frantically between Scott and Mom. "I was with _Liam_. Where is he?"

My two family members spared a glance at each other.

"He's okay," Scott said hesitantly. "Well, sort of."

"What do you mean by 'sort of', Scott?" I demanded, panic stirring within me as two Deputy's passed us on their way to the elevator. "Can I see him?"

Mom kept me down when I attempted to stand up. "Honey, you need to be looked at before you do anything or go anywhere."

"Mom, I'm fine," I insisted.

"Just let me give you a quick examination and then Scott can take you home," she reasoned.

I begrudgingly consented, and fifteen minutes later, Scott and I were heading out to the parking lot, a helicopter hovering above the hospital.

"What's going on, Scott?" I asked, now taking notice of all the flashing police vehicles. "What happened while I was out?"

"I'll explain everything once we get home," he promised, tossing me a helmet as he swung a leg over his motocross bike.

I secured my helmet, reluctantly climbing on behind him. I still wasn't entirely comfortable riding on the hazardous contraption.

We arrived at our house shortly, where Stiles was pacing on the front porch.

"I told my dad everything I could," he announced as soon as we reached him. Scott unlocked the front door, flipping on the lights as we followed him inside.

"Did you tell him about Liam?" Scott inquired anxiously.

My heart picked up at the mention of him. Had something happened to Liam?

"_You_ barely told me about Liam."

"_Wait_," I declared firmly, my head spinning. They both paused at the bottom of the stairs to look at me. "What's wrong with Liam?" The two juniors remained silent. "Where _is_ he?"

"He's upstairs," Scott replied quickly, and I drew my eyebrows together in confusion.

"Doing what?" Stiles questioned, now appearing to be just as puzzled as I was.

"Um," Scott stalled, as if searching for the right words. "Lying down."

Stiles and I glanced suspiciously at each other before trailing up the steps after Scott, who led us through his bedroom and into his attached bathroom.

We all came to halt in front of the shower. Stiles and I stared at Scott expectantly as he grasped the curtain. He shook his head once, as if he couldn't believe he was doing this, and pushed it open.

"Scott, what the _hell_?" I squeaked hysterically, at the same moment Stiles muttered, "Oh, no."

Liam was in the bathtub, bound in duct-tape and looking up at the three of us like we were Jason Voorhees about to take his head off with a chainsaw.

I groaned. Would this day _ever_ end?

x

**A/N:** This chapter has been edited! I'm going through right now and making slight changes to all of them to make the story flow a little smoother. I'm going to be posting chapter nine shortly because I want to get this wrapped up before season five premieres!

Read on, lovelies!


	3. These Things Will Change

chapter three:  
_these things will change_

* * *

Without uttering a word, Stiles reached out and slowly pulled the curtain closed as Liam continued to let out whimpers behind his duct-taped mouth.

Reluctantly leaving Liam alone, I followed Scott and Stiles as they moved back into the bedroom. While they sank down onto the bed, I leaned against the wall next to the doorway, across from them.

"So," I began, shattering the tension-filled silence that had fallen over us like a blanket. "You bit him?"

"To save his life, yes," Scott justified his actions.

"And you kidnapped him. Was that to save his life, too?" Stiles asked sarcastically.

"I panicked!" Scott exclaimed quietly, shooting him a _What was I supposed to do?_ look.

"Yeah, we can see that," Stiles mocked, gesturing between himself and me. "This isn't going to end with us burying the pieces of his dismembered body out in the desert, is it?"

Liam made a muffled sound of protest from the bathroom.

"He can hear you, Stiles," I hissed.

"I don't really care." Stiles grinned. I scowled at him as he turned to Scott. "And as a reminder, this is why I come up with the plans. Your plans? They suck."

"I know," Scott replied. "Which is why I called you." He paused, swallowing. "What are we going to do?"

A few moments later — against my ignored objections as usual— Scott and Stiles had managed to get Liam into a chair, positioning him in front the bed. I had moved over to stand behind Scott, staying back against his open bedroom door as he had instructed in his authoritative big brother tone.

Liam was no longer struggling, but his eyes were alight with anger and he was breathing hard, his chest heaving as he glared up at Scott and Stiles through his lashes. Taking a minute to study him, I noticed his eyes now looked to be more of a tiffany-blue color, instead of the light green I was used to. My heart pounded as he met my stare head-on and narrowed his eyes, his arms flexing against his duct-tape restraints.

Oh yeah, he was livid.

"Liam, we're going to take the tape off your mouth," Stiles began calmly, and Liam looked back to him, huffing out a disgruntled breath. "If you scream, it goes right back on. If you talk quietly, it stays off. Got it?"

Liam hesitated, probably still contemplating whether or not to scream, before nodding in understanding.

Stiles and Scott gestured for the other to remove the duct-tape from Liam's mouth while I rolled my chocolate colored eyes in exasperation.

"Oh, for goodness sake," I muttered. Not liking the idea of being stuck here all night, especially when we had school in less than six hours, I stepped around Stiles and my brother.

Liam's bright blue eyes burned into me as I kneeled down in front of him. I sat on my knees between his legs and took hold of his jaw with one hand while I gently peeled the duct-tape away with the other.

I met his gaze only for a moment before I stood up.

"Okay, Liam," Stiles continued as I moved back to my spot. "You've seen a lot of confusing things tonight, and more confusing things are going to happen because of the confusing things that happened tonight. Do you understand?"

Liam glowered. "Not really," he responded, his voice low with restrained anger.

Stiles seemed content with his answer. "Good, that's good."

"I don't understand either," Scott said, dumbfounded.

"No one does," I muttered, rubbing my temple that was still lightly throbbing.

Stiles shot me an unamused look over his shoulder before turning to Scott. "Maybe you should tell him," he suggested.

"Tell me _what_?" Liam demanded, his tone rising in frustration.

"Liam," Scott started gently. "What happened to you, what I did to you in order to save you . . . it's going to change you."

"Unless it kills you," Stiles added, obviously without thought. Scott and I shot him a glare. "Shouldn't have said that."

Panic began to mix with Liam's enraged expression. "What?"

He bowed his head and startled to sniffle. It sounded like he was genuinely upset, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Liam wasn't the type of person that cried. He was the type of person who fought back.

Despite my inner suspicions, I wordlessly continued to watch as Scott knelt down to be eye level with Liam.

"Hey, Liam, it's okay," he said softly. "You're not going to die."

"Probably not," Stiles corrected, kneeling down as well.

"_Stiles_," Scott and I both snapped in exasperation.

"Okay, possibly not," he amended.

"Would you just help me untie him?" Scott practically hissed at Stiles, most likely to keep him from blurting anything more out.

They effortlessly ripped the duct-tape, releasing him. Liam kept his head down as he slowly rose from the chair.

"Are you okay, Liam?" Scott asked worriedly, his eyes gentle.

"Yeah, we're really sorry about . . . this," Stiles apologized awkwardly.

He didn't respond to either of them, and I felt a sense of caution wash over me as the tension in the room rose.

"Liam?" I questioned him in a soft voice.

His eyes slowly connected with mine for a mere second, and fear flooded through me at the startling amount of anger I found swirling like a storm in his blue irises. In the next second, before I could manage to say something, Liam turned away and gripped the back of the chair before swinging the object at Scott with an alarming amount of force.

"Scott!" I exclaimed in a panic as he was knocked to the floor.

The chair broke into pieces and debris of wood flew around the room, a jagged piece catching me across the cheek, splitting open the skin beneath my eye.

With wide brown eyes, Stiles glanced from Scott to Liam. "Liam, what the hell is your—,"

I yelped in surprise, my hands flying to cover my mouth in shock as Liam threw his fist into Stiles' face in a hard punch, sending him to the floor alongside Scott.

Left (quite literally) as the last one standing, Liam's attention fell on me.

With a hand pressed to my bleeding cheek, I stumbled backward into Scott's desk, desperate to put some distance between us, and stared back at Liam with wide, frightened eyes. I was a petite, five-foot-two girl; completely human and pathetically defenseless. There was no way in hell I would stand a chance against him.

Stiles and Scott released a string of groans as they began to recover, and Liam seemed to snap out of his daze, abruptly running from the bedroom. Upon noticing Liam's hasty departure, Scott and Stiles scrambled up with crazed expressions, rushing down the hall after him.

I remained in Scott's room, grimacing in slight pain as I gently pressed my fingers to my cut. I heard an array of sounds; shouting and tumbling.

I hurried out into the hall, spotting Stiles and Scott laying tangled up in each other at the bottom of the stairs, the front door wide open and no trace of Liam. I jogged down the steps to join my brother and his best friend, finding myself at a loss for the second time that night.

Mere hours ago, Liam was almost killed by a teen-aged cannibal (who was subsequently killed by a mouthless man wielding an axe) and then was given a werewolf bite from a junior on his lacrosse team. He was probably going out of his mind and now he was gone.

_What were we going to do?_

"Your plan sucked too," Scott told Stiles, all three of us staring out into the night.

* * *

"These plans of yours are getting progressively worse," I commented as Scott and I walked through the courtyard.

"We're just going to talk to him," he reasoned, coming to a stop a few feet away from where the buses were letting students off.

"Scott, you bit and kidnapped him last night," I reminded him, desperate for him to comprehend those words and to realize how bad of an idea this was. "And now you're about to back him into a literal corner. He's not going to respond well to that and I don't want you to get hurt because of it."

My brother looked at me with soft, helpless eyes. "I have to try to help him, Joey. I bit him. I'm responsible for both him and what happens _because_ of him."

I sighed in defeat. "I know."

There was silence between us for a moment before something behind me seemed to capture Scott's full attention. I glanced over my shoulder, briefly catching sight of Liam hauling ass toward the entrance of the school.

I grabbed Scott's arm before he could follow after him. "Be careful," I whispered. "Please."

My brother nodded in a silent agreement and then headed off in the same direction Liam had just gone.

Praying that this plan wouldn't end disastrously, I wandered inside to my locker.

I had been in the process of flipping through my history notes, double-checking that I finished the homework last night (I fell asleep in the middle of working on it), when Stiles and Scott appeared on either side of me.

I continued to look through my notebook without acknowledging them, not even remotely surprised by their sudden presence.

"So . . . it didn't exactly go as planned," Stiles began.

"I couldn't be less shocked," I mumbled.

"And we need your help," Scott finished, ignoring my sarcastic remark.

I slapped my notebook shut and divided an alarmed glance between them. "What do you mean by that exactly?"

"Liam's bite healed," Stiles said. He allowed this information to set with me before continuing. "You have second period with him, right?" I nodded. "We need you to talk to him."

"And convince him to talk to us," Scott explained.

"He won't listen to me, Scott," I said, shaking my head doubtfully. "He's just as angry with me as he is with the two of you. And honestly, I'm not sure I want to go near him at the moment," I stated, a spark of fear igniting within me as I remembered Liam's cold eyes from last night.

"He won't hurt you, Joey," Scott assured.

"You can't know that for sure," I began. "He's lashing out. He's unpredictable. He didn't hesitate, Scott, not for a second before slamming you with that chair."

"The kid does have the tendency to be a bit hostile, Scott," Stiles added. "Like two minutes ago, for example."

"He won't hurt her," Scott repeated to him.

"Regardless, he's acting out because he feels trapped. He doesn't need another person forcing him into this new life, he needs space—time to process what's happened," I explained, shutting my locker.

"Yeah, the thing is, Joey," Stiles spoke up. "We don't have _time. _The full moon is tonight_._"

* * *

After first period, I maneuvered through the masses of students in the hallway as I made my way to history, the class I shared with Liam. I anxiously chewed on my bottom lip at the thought of confronting him.

I had no idea what was going through his mind. I didn't know if he was feeling lost or angry; most likely both. I was afraid I would make things worse. I was afraid this whole situation would end tragically, with Liam or my brother being collateral damage, and I would be to blame for every—

I squeaked in surprise when someone wrapped a strong hand around my arm, tugging me into the empty classroom I was passing before I could even think about resisting.

"Liam, what are you doing?" I questioned in a nervous rush, bewildered.

Without responding to me, Liam slammed the classroom door shut, and I watched with apprehension as he flipped the lock.

"I want to know what the hell is going on," he said, turning around to face me.

"Okay," I conceded immediately, sensing the residual anger on him, most likely left over from the encounter he had with Scott and Stiles. "I'll tell you anything you want to know, Liam."

"Tell me what the hell happened last night," he demanded lowly, taking a few quick strides toward me.

I instinctively moved backward upon his fast approach, cringing in pain when my hip collided with the corner of a student desk.

Liam frowned, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. "You're afraid of me."

"I'm _not_," I said stubbornly, rubbing my hip.

"You think I'm going to hurt you, don't you?"

"I'm not afraid of you, Liam," I stated, despite my wavering confidence. "And you're not going to hurt me."

In a flash of movement, Liam was directly in front of me, backing me into a corner of the classroom. He raised an arm to rest it against the wall, blocking me from any form of potential escape. My heart pounded wildly as he leaned in close, his nose brushing against mine as a mix of growls and snarls left his lips. I shivered as his hot breath fanned over me.

"Look at you." He shook his head in angry disbelief, his bright blue eyes holding my wide-eyed gaze. "You're terrified."

He pushed himself away from me, giving me his back as he ran his hands through his hair in a desperate attempt to make sense of what was happening to him.

"I'm scared of the things you can do, Liam," I admitted softly. "You're not the same person you were yesterday. You're changing, and believe me, you don't want to experience this alone. Let Scott and Stiles help you. You can trust them."

A humorless laugh escaped his lips as he met my eyes once again. "I trusted _you_," he said, narrowing his eyes accusingly. "And look where that got me."

I opened my mouth to protest, but the words became caught in my throat as Liam snatched his backpack from the floor and headed over to the door.

"Just stay away from me, Joey," he muttered, before shoving his way out of the classroom.

x

**A/N:** Okay, _major_ changes to this chapter! I didn't like the previous version because I didn't think the way I wrote Liam matched the way his character is written in the show. I think this version is much better and suits the story better. I'm still in the process of revising the other chapters, so if the next one doesn't make sense at the moment, it will in few hours.

Read on, loves!


	4. Alpha's Intuition

chapter four:  
_alpha's intuition_

* * *

Thoughts of Liam had consumed my mind with worry and it was next to impossible to focus on anything else besides my brother's first beta. My attention was nowhere near my teacher's lessons, for four consecutive periods, and by the time lunch rolled around I was a five-foot-two, bouncing energy ball of pent up anxiety.

Liam had never shown up to history, and I had spent the duration of the class pondering his whereabouts, hoping he wasn't in any trouble. I remembered the reckless way Scott had acted last year before finally accepting Derek's guidance. I was hoping the past wouldn't be repeated with Liam.

With a sigh, I brushed a lock of chocolate colored hair behind my ear as I opened my locker. I placed my books inside and tugged on my brown leather jacket before heading out to the abandoned lot of buses where Stiles had texted me earlier to meet him. I didn't know what he wanted to discuss — his text had been typically vague — but I presumed the topic of conversation would involve Liam.

I wandered along the rows of idle buses until I came across Stiles, Malia, Scott, Kira, and Lydia standing in a circle.

"I'm not sharing my basement," Malia was saying when I approached.

"Hey," Stiles greeted as I filled the space between him and Kira.

"Hi," I responded, looking from him to the rest of the group. "What's going on?"

"We're debating on what to do with Liam tonight," he filled me in. "So far, Lydia's lake house seems like the only viable option."

"Actually, that basement belongs to me," Lydia stated to Malia, carrying on their conversation. "And my mom knows how you tore it up last time."

"Okay, she's still learning," Stiles defended lightly, drawing his attention back to their discussion. He flashed a small, reassuring smile at Malia before looking around at the group. "Let's remember that Liam is the problem at the moment." He turned to me. "Did you talk to him?"

I bit the inside of my cheek, nodding.

"What happened?" Scott asked, his eyes hopeful yet wary.

"He's lost, and consequently, he's angry," I said, too drained to beat around the bush. "He has no idea what's happening to him, Scott. I could see that he was looking for guidance, but he doesn't know where to go for it because he doesn't trust anyone. He made that very clear," I mumbled, remembering what Liam had told me.

"We need to find a way to get him out to the lake house tonight," Scott said, now addressing all present. "I was planning on using the boathouse to chain him up. The support beams should be pretty sturdy."

Kira frowned. "How do we get him there if he doesn't trust us?"

"I say, if it keeps him from murdering someone, we just chloroform the little bastard and throw him in the lake," Stiles said, demonstrating the scenario with his hands.

"I'm in." Malia raised a hand in agreement.

"We're not killing or kidnapping him," Scott declared, dividing a stern look between the pair.

"Then let's be smarter. We'll tell him there's a party and invite him," Lydia suggested.

"I'm sorry," Stiles cut in with an amused, yet dubious expression. "You're going to ask out a freshman?"

Lydia scoffed at the ridiculous notion, throwing her strawberry-blonde locks over her shoulder. "No, I'm done with teenage boys. But," she continued on. "If we're playing a trick on a freshman, why not put to use the only one we've got?"

Simultaneously, five pairs of eyes fell on me. I stared back at them with an alarmed expression.

Oh, no.

"Joey?" Stiles spoke incredulously before I could. "What—no. Out of the question. Not happening."

"Why?" Malia questioned bluntly, furrowing her brows at me and then Stiles. "She's pretty and charming."

"Liam certainly seems to think so," Lydia commented off-handedly, her eyes wandering around at the palm trees.

"Enough." Stiles groaned, running a hand over his face. "Please. We'll find another way."

"There is no other way, Stiles," Scott said firmly. "I'm not ecstatic about the idea either, but if it keeps Liam from getting out of control tonight, I think it'll be worth the risk." My brother gave his attention to me. "Joey, I would never force you to do something you're uncomfortable with, but Liam _does _trust you. I could smell it on him last night when he looked at you. He may be angry, but his trust hasn't wavered. You remember what Isaac was like on his first full moon—"

"Uh, vividly," Stiles interjected. "He wanted to mame and kill me."

"—well, call it Alpha's intuition or whatever, but I have a feeling Liam is going to be much worse."

"All the more reason for her not to do it, Scott," Stiles responded.

I was conflicted; Stiles had a logical point. If Liam was really going to be as dangerous as Isaac was, I shouldn't deliberately place myself into that situation, especially taking into consideration how angry he already is. Plus, if Liam trusted me like my brother claimed, he definitely wouldn't after realizing I deceived him.

Despite my internal debate, I ultimately knew Scott was right. We had to try everything we could to help Liam, no matter the risk.

I sighed, my better judgement giving way to what was morally right. "I'll do it."

* * *

Hours later, I found myself standing before a full length mirror in Lydia's bedroom, staring at my reflection.

By some miracle bestowed upon me by God, I had managed to convince Liam to accompany me to the "party" up at the lake house, and Lydia had insisted on dressing me for the occasion.

I gave myself another doubting once-over, my expression uncertain. I was wearing a shimmering, cream-colored dress with a lacy, sweetheart neckline. The straps were thin and the clinging material hugged my petite shape like a glove, stopping a few inches above my knees. To me, it more closely resembled lingerie than a party dress.

"Scott and Stiles are going to kill me," I stated, turning around to face Lydia who was rummaging through her closet for shoes.

"Then I guess you're lucky they already left with Malia," she said, unconcerned. "Besides, this was their idea."

"This was _your _idea," I responded matter-of-factly, plopping down on the edge of her bed.

"Yes, but _they_ agreed to it," she quipped, emerging from her closet. "Put these on," she ordered, handing me a pair of nude stilettos.

I begrudgingly slipped them on while the strawberry-blonde watched happily. She was having way too much fun.

We were heading down the stairs five minutes later, where Kira was waiting patiently by the front door.

"Ready?" she chirped.

Though I wasn't, I nodded.

* * *

The drive out to Lydia's lake house was the most awkward and uncomfortable car ride I had ever experienced in my fifteen years of life. Being confined in a small space with a blossoming werewolf for sixty minutes on the night of a full moon was beyond problematic.

While I sat contently in the back of the car, Liam rode in the passenger seat, obviously on edge. He was fidgety and tense, jumping at every little sound. He'd even asked Kira to turn the music down earlier, which I found strange considering the song was barely audible to begin with.

I was just about to question him when my phone vibrated in my lap, a message from Stiles glowing on the screen.

"Who did you say was coming to this party?" Liam's voice drifted to the back of the car.

"Um—everyone," I muttered distractedly, my eyes scanning the text Stiles sent me.

_I found out why Liam was kicked out of his old school. He destroyed a teacher's car with a crowbar._

There was a picture floating below his message, and I clicked on it, allowing the image to fill the entire screen of my phone. My eyes widened at the sight of the demolished car. The windows were broken, the tires were slashed, and there were deep dents marring the blue paint. The words _this is your fault_ were angrily engraved on the side.

My stomach knotted in fear.

Liam did that?

My phone buzzed once more, a second message from Stiles popping up in a gray bubble.

_He has some serious anger issues, Jo. Be careful. _

I swallowed hard as I glanced at Liam, whose breathing was becoming heavier with each passing minute.

Kira — bless the heavens above — pulled up in front of Lydia's lake house only moments later, putting her Corolla into park and pulling the keys from the ignition.

Liam and I exited the car, and I cast him another worried glance as I shut my door. He waited for me as I walked around to his side, while Kira headed inside. When I reached him, he interlaced our fingers, bringing me closer. I looked down at our hands in mild bewilderment before looking up at him. I was still adjusting to all this touching.

"Are you wearing perfume?" he asked.

I drew my eyebrows together. "No, why? Should I be?"

With a small grin curving at his lips, Liam backed me into Kira's car, his arms on either side of me. He dipped his head, and my whole body trembled as he trailed his nose from the base of my neck up to my ear. "No, you smell good," he mumbled, before slowly walking backward and pulling me with him. His eyes grazed over my figure, leaving a hot path of fire all over my skin. I blushed when he raised his gaze back to mine. "Like vanilla."

As we passed Lydia's car, Stiles' jeep, and Scott's motorbike, Liam seemed to notice something.

"Where is everyone?" he questioned, continuing up to the porch.

"They're coming," I assured without missing a beat. "We're just early. Lydia needs help setting up."

I anxiously bit my lip as Liam nodded and pushed inside. I hated how easy it was for me to lie to him.

He came to an abrupt halt at the sight of Scott, Kira, Lydia, Malia, and Stiles lined in front of the fireplace. He immediately turned around, but I moved back against the door as he stepped closer, shutting it with a small _click. _

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my eyes apologetic.

The look of betrayal on his face forced my gaze away from his.

He shook his head before addressing the others. "What the hell is this?"

Stiles was the first to break the ice. "Think of it as an intervention. You have a problem, Liam."

"And we're the only ones that can help," Scott added, stepping forward.

Considering what had happened the last time Scott attempted to explain things to him, everyone was surprised when Liam listened to what my brother had to say about the supernatural. Scott never specifically told Liam that he was transforming into a werewolf, but he did tell him about the rest of the pack. Liam's eyes flickered from junior to junior, confirming each of their supernatural statuses.

"And what are you?" he asked Stiles.

"Uh, for a little while I was possessed by an evil spirit," Stiles answered. "Very evil."

Liam crossed his arms. "And what are you now?"

I was amazed by how quickly the two had managed to establish a mutual dislike for each other.

"Better?" Stiles said with an uncertain expression, playing with his hands.

Liam then fixed his eyes on me. "And you?" he inquired, his tone a touch softer.

"Human," I answered.

His gaze lingered on me a few seconds longer before he took notice of the chains and cuffs lying in a heap on the coffee table.

"Are those for me?"

"They're for me," Malia spoke up, allowing her eyes to glow blue.

From my positon, I was unable to see Liam's reaction, but his body tensed as he took a step backward, nearly bumping into me.

"How'd you do that?"

"You'll learn," Scott promised calmly, his eyes flickering to me for just a moment. I nodded slightly, telling him I was okay being with Liam. "But first you need to get through the full moon."

"The moon is already out," Liam stated, his voice tight with hostility. I could feel the rising tension in the room.

"And you're starting to feel something, aren't you?" Scott asked him, a sense of knowing in his tone.

"I _feel _like I'm surrounded by a bunch of psychotic nut-jobs. You guys are out of your freaking _minds_!" Liam exclaimed, his voice rising to a shout. I pressed myself into the door behind me, watching Liam with wide eyes as the last of his composure slipped away. "I don't know how you did that eye thing and I don't care! I'm walking out the door _right_ now and if any of you try to stop me, I swear to God, I'm going to—"

Liam broke off abruptly and yelled out in pain, clutching his head as he stumbled slightly.

"Liam?" I said, stepping toward him in concern. "What's wrong?"

"You don't hear that?" he asked, covering his ears. He squeezed his eyes shut, collapsing to his hands and knees.

I was about to drop to my knees beside him, but Scott held his arm out in front of me and shook his head, preventing me from getting anywhere near Liam.

Headlights flooded into the living room and I headed over to the window instead, peeking through the blinds to see more than twenty cars piling into the driveway.

"Did you tell someone about this?" Lydia asked.

"My friend Mason," Liam confessed between pants, glancing helplessly at me. "You said it was a party!"

"And um, who did Mason invite?" Stiles inquired.

Kira and I turned away from the window, sharing a glance.

I bit my lip as Kira looked worriedly at the others. "Everyone."

x

**A/N: **Again, some minor changes to this chapter! I'm trying to edit all of them before I upload the new chapters. I'm hoping to get through this season before season five premieres!

Read on! :)


	5. Lake House Havoc

chapter five:  
_lake house __havoc_

* * *

Scott and Kira hauled Liam off to boathouse while I stayed behind to help Stiles with Malia. I had wanted to go with Liam, afraid if I let him out of my sight for even a second something awful would happen, but Scott had ordered me to stay here, saying it wasn't safe for me.

Stiles shuffled Malia down the basement steps while I shut the door behind us before following, immediately assisting him in chaining her to the wall. A knot formed in my stomach when I saw how torn the leather cuffs were — they weren't going to last much longer.

"Too tight?" Stiles questioned as he slipped one of them around Malia's wrist.

Malia looked up at him, her face shifted. "Tighter," she growled.

Once we were sure her restraints were secure, we stood back up.

"I've got everything under control down here, Joey," Stiles said. "You should go and check on Lydia, make sure the party isn't getting too out of hand."

I cast a worried glance in Malia's direction before nodding. I regretted my decision immensely to after I headed back upstairs, straight into the heart of the party. I had never realized how many people were in my grade until I saw them all in Lydia's lake house, stretched all across the room, filling every last square inch.

The low bass of the music playing pounded in my ears as I moved about the room on the edge of the crowds of freshmen, desperately hoping to catch a glimpse of strawberry-blonde hair. It wasn't long before I swept into the mass of rowdy teenagers. I could barely hear my own thoughts over all the noise and everywhere I turned I was bumping into somebody.

Resolutely frustrated – and my anxiety building by the minute – I determinately elbowed my way through the sea of bodies to the kitchen that was surprisingly empty. I leaned back against the counter, dropping my head into my hands in an attempt to recuperate.

I wasn't sure how long I had been standing like that when someone touched my shoulder, the contact nearly sending me into cardiac arrest. I removed my face from my hands to look up into the soft blue eyes of Garrett.

"Are you okay, Joey?" he asked, his hand sliding from my shoulder to my arm.

I wasn't, but there was no way I could tell him why my thoughts were really spinning. Garrett might've acted like an ass sometimes, but I've known him long enough to know there was another side to him.

I allowed a small smile to curve at my lips. "I'll be fine. It's just a little loud out there."

He laughed. "Yeah, no kidding. Who knew this many people were in our class?"

I grinned now, remembering I had thought the exact same thing earlier.

"You should smile more often," he said quietly, and being the socially awkward girl I was in the presence of an attractive boy, I blushed.

Before I could respond to the blonde in front of me, a guy in a uniform-like shirt wheeled a keg into the room.

I stepped away from Garrett. "I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong address."

"Somebody in this place ordered it," he responded. "Besides, are you telling me nobody here wants to drink?"

I sighed. "How much?" I inquired, and I felt Garrett move behind me as the guy passed me a slip of paper.

My eyes widened at the price. Where the _hell _was I going to get the money to pay for this?

A wave of relief crashed over me when Lydia stalked into the room, her eyes immediately falling on the keg. "What the hell is this?" she demanded of the guy – his nametag read _Demarco_ – and motioned for me to hand her the receipt.

Demarco shrugged, seemingly unperturbed by Lydia's irritation.

"I didn't order a keg of beer—especially not domestic," she told him with a tight-lipped smile.

Her eyes darted to the glass of wine resting on her Mac. She closed the thin electronic and muttered something about it being two thousand dollars as she dumped the glass in the sink.

"Are you going to pay me or what?" Demarco asked impatiently.

Lydia rolled her green eyes, spinning on her heels. "I'll find you some cash," she said distractedly as she left the room.

"Hey." Garrett's voice was right next to my ear as his shoulder grazed mine. "I can pay for the keg."

"Garrett—" I began uncertainly, stunned at his generosity.

"Don't worry about it," he dismissed, digging out his wallet.

My phone vibrated in my hand and I sent him a grateful smile before turning away to read the text from Kira.

**Liam's loose in the woods. Scott went after him. Don't let anyone go outside. **

"Is everything okay?"

I swiveled around, nearly bumping into Garrett because of how close he was.

"I—uh, yeah," I stammered, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. "I actually have to go, though. Thanks for paying for the beer."

Without another word, I headed for the back door on the other side of the kitchen.

"Joey," Garrett said, just as my hand grasped the cold handle.

I paused and looked over my shoulder at him, flicking my eyebrows up in question.

His expression was solemn as he gazed at me. "Be careful."

* * *

The first pressing matter I attended to was my shoes.

I went directly to Lydia's car, popped the trunk (where I knew she stashed her flats), and slipped a pair on. I carelessly dropped my heels in before going into the forest. I used to run the trails with Allison, so I was somewhat familiar with these woods, but in the dark all the trees and landmarks looked identical.

Despite my worry of becoming lost, I wandered further, keeping an eye out for any form of a threat while simultaneously searching for Scott.

I stopped in my tracks at the sound of low growling, my pulse quickening in fear. A branch snapped behind me and I spun around, only to be tackled into the leaves. Liam's jagged claws dug into my shoulders as he pinned me down, his glowing amber eyes piercing into me.

"Liam, _stop_!" I shouted frantically over his snarling, turning my head away as he bared his canines.

Liam raised his arm just as Scott leapt from the trees, knocking him off me. Liam's claws narrowly missed my throat, slicing me across the collarbone instead. I gasped at the pain, any sound becoming caught in my throat. I pushed myself up to a sitting position with a hand pressed to my bleeding wound, my eyes widening as Liam pinned Scott against a tree.

"Liam!" Scott desperately attempted to connect with Liam's human side as he struggled to fight him off. "Liam, wait! Stop!"

"What did you do to me?" Liam demanded in a growl.

"Liam, stop!" I cried. "_Please_!"

"This is your fault," he snarled at my brother. "This is all your fault! This is your_ fault_!"

A loud, high-pitched noise rang out in the distance before an arrow flew into the tree above Scott and Liam, bursting with light like firework. Liam yelled out in agony, covering his eyes as it continued to flash like a strobe light and took off into the trees, disappearing into the woods.

Scott and I stared at Chris Argent in a mix of awe and astonishment as he emerged in the moon light, wielding a crossbow. I was speechless as he crouched down next to me, carefully removing my hand from my collarbone to examine the gashes Liam left.

"You should have Deaton look at these," he advised.

"How did you know?" I questioned in bewilderment.

Chris helped me to my feet, his eyes flickering to Scott with a small, fond smile. "I got your brother's texts."

Despite the current circumstances, my mouth curved just a bit.

His expression became serious as he glanced at the mixture of dirt and blood on my dress. "What are you doing out here, Joey?" He reached up to remove a stray leaf from my brown waves. "You shouldn't be involved in all this."

"I was looking for Scott and Liam," I told him with a sheepish shrug, now realizing just how foolish my actions were. "And well, I found them."

"There's a clearing just north of here," Chris said. "All you have to do is corral your friend there and the rest is taken care of."

"What are you going to do?" Scott asked.

"He's your beta, Scott. What are _you _going to do?"

My brother shook his head doubtfully. "He won't listen to me."

"He will if you start using your own words," Chris assured.

A loud scream ripped through the air, the reverberations shaking the ground and echoing off the trees.

"Here." Chris handed Scott a button. "Go."

Scott met my eyes. "Head back to the house and have Stiles drive you to the animal clinic."

"I'm coming with you, Scott," I told him.

"Joey—"

"I'm not leaving him again," I stated in a tone of finality.

Scott sighed and nodded. "Okay, okay, let's go."

We came upon the clearing moments later, where Liam was cowering on the ground, trapped in a square of ultrasonic emitters. Scott clicked the button Chris gave him, shutting off the transmitters and stopping Liam's screams of pain.

He panted, slowly lowering his hands from his ears. He looked helpless and lost and I felt my heart break as I watched him. I glanced at Scott, waiting for his instruction. His eyes flickered back to me before moving to Liam.

"They can't know about this," Liam said. "My mom, my stepdad—I can't do this to them again. I got kicked out of school and I deserved it," he continued to ramble, as if everything was flooding to the surface and he couldn't stop it. "The way they looked at me when they saw what I did to that car . . .," he trailed off.

A burning sensation blossomed in my throat as I listened to Liam speak. His voice held so much pain.

Scott attempted to calm him. "Liam, it's okay."

"They can't see me like this," he mumbled. "Like . . . like a—"

"Like a monster," Scott finished somberly, understanding in his tone.

I saw the hidden pain in my brother's eyes, and I touched his arm in a comforting gesture.

Scott nodded at me, assuring that he was okay, before his face hardened. "Liam," he said sternly. "You're not a monster. You're a werewolf." Liam looked up from the ground, into Scott's glowing red eyes. "Like me."

Liam only stared up at Scott for a moment before his eyes abruptly flashed from blue to a brilliant yellow. "How do you _control_ it?" he snarled, his claws digging into the ground.

"You find an anchor," Scott explained calmly yet urgently. "Something that holds meaning to you."

Liam growled and I instinctively took a step back, the movement drawing his eyes in my direction. My brother moved to stand slightly in front of me, in case Liam decided to lunge, but the protective gesture wasn't necessary. The color of Liam's eyes faded back to blue, his claws retracting.

"Are you okay?" Scott questioned, his expression wary as Liam stood up.

"I'm fine," he muttered half-heartedly, brushing off dirt and leaves.

"Did you find something?" Scott asked.

Liam's eyes flickered to me for a moment before falling back on Scott. "Yeah," he replied. "I found something."

* * *

After the lake house had been cleared out and cleaned up, we all settled in, deciding to stay the night like we have so many times before. Lydia and Kira attended to my cuts, disinfecting the gashes with alcohol. Once I was bandaged and had claimed one of the guest bedrooms, I tiredly changed into a gray V-neck and a pair of black yoga pants.

I had just finished brushing my teeth when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," I said, running a hand through my hair as I collapsed down onto the edge of the bed.

Scott opened the door, dressed in more comfortable clothes just like me. He leaned in the doorway, folding his arms across his chest, his solemn expression telling me he wanted to talk.

"Where's Liam?" I questioned.

"I left him in the boathouse," Scott replied. "He asked for some time alone."

"Is he—"

"I don't want you around him anymore, Joey," he said abruptly, his eyes serious as they locked with mine.

I drew my eyebrows together, convinced I hadn't heard him correctly. "What?"

"I want you to stay away from Liam," he reiterated.

"Scott—"

"Don't fight me on this, Josephine," he interrupted, and my mouth almost fell open at the use of my full name. He was _so_ serious about this. His voice softened as he continued. "If I hadn't gotten there in time, he would have killed you."

I dropped my gaze to play with my hands, looking for a distraction. "It's not his fault, Scott," I replied. "He can't control it."

"Exactly," Scott said, crossing the room to sit beside me. "And until he _does _learn to control it, you need to keep your distance." He gently ran his fingers over the bandage on my collarbone before dropping his hand with a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry this happened."

"I survived, Scott," I told him. "We all did. That's the only thing that matters."

* * *

I walked despondently toward the entrance of the high school on Monday morning, cupping a hand over my mouth as I yawned.

Scott had dedicated his weekend to Liam, while I had dedicated mine to Stiles and his father after a new murder surfaced, the name of the girl taken right off the hit list Lydia had recovered using her Banshee abilities. In the process of organizing the last of the information last night, Stiles and I had fallen asleep at the police station.

Deputy Parrish and Sheriff Stilinski woke us up, and while the Sheriff talked with Stiles, Parrish dropped me at the school.

I took a quick glance over my shoulder to see the patrol car still lingering there. I knew Deputy Parrish was suspicious – Stiles and I had foolishly left everything out for him to see when he walked in – and probably concerned about me since he continuously asked me questions on the ride over. He seemed like a genuine person, and I was somewhat comforted knowing he was a part of the police force, knowing he had Sheriff Stilinski's back.

Lydia intercepted me at the front doors, her critical gaze sweeping over my disheveled appearance.

I held up my index finger as I passed her. "Don't."

"What?" she questioned innocently, following behind me as I headed toward my locker. "I wasn't going to say anything."

"Oh, God," I said, turning to her. "Do I really look that bad?"

The strawberry-blonde shook her head in dismissal, handing me her makeup pouch. "Just touch up a little."

I did as Lydia advised, quickly disappearing into the nearest bathroom. I dabbed some concealer under my eyes, coated my eyelashes with mascara, swiped some light blush onto my cheeks, and applied a dusty rose colored balm to my lips. I then ran my fingers through my hair, attempting to tame my messy waves as best I could.

Deeming myself presentable, I made to walk out when my phone vibrated. I fished the device out of my purse, glanced at the screen, and hesitated for a moment before opening the message from Liam.

**Can we talk? **

Another text popped up before I could put it away.

**Joey, please. Just a talk. **

Though I knew Scott wouldn't be happy, I sighed before typing a response, asking Liam when and where. His reply came within a few seconds.

**Boys locker room in 10.**


	6. A Walking Time Bomb

chapter six:  
_a walking time bomb_

* * *

I slowly pushed the door to the boy's locker room open, keeping a close eye out for any stray lacrosse players hanging around in their natural habitat before class, or a sign of possible supernatural threats (because really, this _was_ the boy's locker room) or—God forbid—Coach Finstock, lurking around a set of lockers waiting to scare the living daylights out of me like he so often enjoyed doing.

I'd only been in here a handful of times before—mostly to support Scott or Isaac before a game—and each time I left with a sense of unease. There was just something about the atmosphere of the room that made me fidgety and uncomfortable. After all, no good thing could come of a girl being in a place strictly meant for boys.

Once I was sure the coast was clear—no Finstock in sight—I ventured forward, letting the door swing shut softly behind me. Doing my best to ignore the strong scent of Axe lingering in the air, I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear and began searching for Liam as I wandered down the sets of lockers, my eyes absentmindedly flickering over the names taped to the outside.

When I came across _Thompson_ I stopped, and in a moment of curiosity I would surely regret later, I slowly pulled Garrett's locker open, cringing at the loud creak the door made in the silence. Under normal circumstances, I wasn't one to snoop, but some aspect of Garrett's golden boy act didn't sit well with me, and though I doubted I would find incriminating evidence in his gym locker of all places, I wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to learn something about him.

His locker was as expected—stuffed with lacrosse gear, a practice bag, some empty water bottles, and a lacrosse stick. However, my eyebrows furrowed slightly at the red duffle lying at the bottom, nearly hidden beneath his jersey.

When I was just about to reach for it, a deep voice startled me. "Having fun?"

My eyes widened and I immediately slammed the locker shut, spinning around to come face-to-face with Derek Hale.

"God, Derek, you scared me half to death," I breathed, leaning back against the lockers with a hand pressed over my pounding heart. "You seriously need to stop doing that to people."

He raised a dark eyebrow at me. "Shouldn't you be in class?"

"I, um, I have a free period," I told him, fiddling with the sleeves of my sweater.

Derek's eyebrow arched higher. "And you chose to spend it in the boy's locker room?"

"Not exactly," I responded, then exhaled in exasperation, not wanting to explain myself to _Derek_ of all people. "It's complicated."

"Clearly."

In the moment of silence that followed, I noticed the lacrosse stick in his hand. I glanced back up at him with an uncertain expression. "What are you doing here, Derek?" I questioned apprehensively. I could admit, I was wary of his random appearance. Nothing good ever came out of Derek visiting the high school.

Derek held a finger to his lips instead of answering, and a second later, I heard someone enter the locker room.

"Play along," he whispered to me.

I watched Derek in utter confusion as he began to walk up the row of lockers, dragging the lacrosse stick against the metal, creating an echoing clanging sound. I followed curiously behind him, but stayed back when he stepped from behind the lockers, revealing himself to whoever had come in. I peeked around, my eyes widening at the sight of Liam, dressed in a muscle shirt and basketball shorts with a guarded expression etched across his face.

A bad feeling settled in the pit of my stomach.

I nervously chewed the inside of my cheek, staring at Derek as he twirled the lacrosse stick in his hand. "Is this yours?" he asked, his green eyes trained on Liam.

Liam didn't respond, and Derek abruptly snapped the stick in half, making my mouth fall open, before carelessly throwing it to the ground. Liam's eyes flared an untamed yellow as he took a threatening step forward.

"Ah, ah, ah," Derek taunted, suddenly grabbing me by the arm and hauling me out from behind the lockers. I met Liam's glowing eyes with a look of helplessness, and when his expression became conflicted with an emotion other than anger, I hoped he was on the verge of calming down.

Derek—wanting a reaction out of Liam—purposely tightened his grip on me and his claws dug into my skin with just enough pressure to make me hiss in pain.

Liam growled, a deep, rumbling sound and his lip curled up in a snarl as he lunged for the older werewolf.

Derek released his hold on me and easily intercepted Liam, swiftly grabbing the younger boy by the throat before slamming him into the lockers.

"Derek!" I squeaked in surprise. "Derek, let go of him!"

"_Liam_." Scott's voice floated into the locker room.

Liam visibly calmed down and I looked over toward the entrance to see my brother coming around the corner, carrying another lacrosse stick.

"You're right," Derek commented, looking at Liam in mild amusement. "He is angry."

He dropped the freshmen back on his feet, and after Liam's breathing evened out a bit, Scott raised the lacrosse stick in his hand. "This one is yours," Scott said, tossing it over to him.

Liam caught the stick with ease and then turned to glare at Derek—who simply did that weird thing with his eyebrows he always does—once more before the bell rang out loudly, sending reverberations throughout the locker room.

"Get to class, Liam," Scott told him. His blue eyes flickered over to me and Scott followed his gaze. My brother looked at me with a stern expression. "You stay here, Joey."

Liam spared a final glance at me before he reluctantly tucked his stick back into his locker and grabbed his backpack, angrily pushing his way out of the locker room door.

"I'm going to be late for history, Scott," I remarked, wanting to be anywhere else than under his scrutinizing gaze.

"I told you to stay away from him, Joey," Scott said. "And here you are, forty-eight hours later, in the middle of trouble again."

"He wanted to talk," I defended in a small voice. "What was I supposed to do, Scott? Ignore him? He's overwhelmed and he's struggling with these new abilities he has."

"He'll be okay," Derek assured. "All that anger he has? It'll make him strong."

"And dangerous," Scott added, frowning.

"Very," Derek agreed, his green eyes looking pointedly at me, like he was warning me.

Scott shook his head, sighing as he lowered himself down to sit on the bench. "Give me some time to help him control it better," he reasoned. "I don't want you to get hurt because of him."

"You should have more faith in him," I whispered.

I turned and stalked out of that Godawful locker room without another word said or glance over my shoulder.

* * *

I tactfully avoided Liam for the remainder of the school day—well, not that there was really a "tactful" way to avoid someone under any circumstances, but I couldn't bear to face him after the incident in the locker room because I didn't know where to even begin explaining what happened or who Derek was or how Scott and I knew him. It was just all way too complicated and so far out of my comfort zone.

Shaking my head clear of my thoughts, I pushed up from my English desk and headed to my locker after the last bell of the day rang. I was in the process of putting my books away when a demanding presence appeared next to me.

"Did I do something wrong?"

I turned my head in surprise and looked into Liam's crystal blue eyes with a startled expression. Curse werewolves and their stupid supernatural abilities.

I blinked at him, my pulse climbing. "What?"

"I said, did I do something wrong?" Liam repeated, fiddling with the strap of his backpack. "I mean, I know"—he cleared his throat nervously, his eyes falling to the floor—"I, um, I know I sort of o-overreacted earlier in the locker room and I shouldn't have and I'm sorry if I—um, if I scared you and that's why you haven't talked to me all day and—"

"Liam," I spoke softly, immediately stopping his ramblings. My lips curved gently at the edges as his eyes flickered back up to meet mine. "You didn't do anything wrong and you didn't scare me. I already told you, I'm not afraid of you."

Liam's eyebrows furrowed, and for a moment, he reminded me of a kicked puppy. "Then why have you been ignoring me all day?"

I sighed and closed my locker, hugging my books to my chest as I leaned my side against it. "I-I didn't know what to say to you," I admitted in a murmur, running a hand through my hair. "And Scott—well, he's not very comfortable with his little sister being friends with his beta."

"But we are, right?" Liam questioned, his expression uncertain. "Um, friends, I mean."

I swore I saw a faint grimace cross his face when he said "friends", but I decided to disregard it.

"Yes," I responded with a small smile. "We're friends, Liam—regardless of what Scott wants. He doesn't get to make decisions for me. I control my own life and I don't need his permission to be friends with anyone."

Liam's lips twitched into a lopsided grin, and for a moment, we just appreciated each other's company.

"Yo, Dunbar." Jude, a dark-haired boy from the lacrosse team whom was in my math class, approached Liam and I, giving him a brief fist bump in greeting while nodding at me in acknowledgement. "Devenford just pulled up outside," he informed.

A cold look etched onto Liam's face. "Is Brett with them?" he asked lowly.

"Yeah." Jude nodded in confirmation. "Talbot's with them. I think he's starting the team tonight."

Without another word spoken, Liam took off down the hallway and I glanced at Jude with bewildered eyes before heading after him.

"Liam?" I questioned him, my stomach beginning to knot with an uneasy feeling. He didn't respond to me or even acknowledge my presence and I had to quicken my pace to keep up with him. "Liam, wait—what are you doing?"

"Joey!" a voice shouted from behind me, and I looked over my shoulder to see Mason racing up the hall in order to catch up with me and Liam. He fell into step beside me, out of breath, as he glanced at Liam in front of them. "What's going on?"

"I don't know," I replied in a worried rush. "Jude came up to him and told him Devenford was outside. Then he said something about 'Talbot' or 'Brett' or someone and Liam just took off."

Mason's eyes went wide with alarm and he immediately turned his attention to Liam. "Liam, don't," he warned urgently. "Brett's not worth it."

Storming through the set of doors at the end of the hallway, Liam ignored Mason entirely as he headed straight for the white buses parked near the sidewalk. I watched as the Devenford Prep lacrosse team began to unload and Mason became more frantic.

"Liam, _wait_—no, no, no!" he called after Liam in another lost attempt to stop him. "Liam!"

"Brett!" Liam barked at a particularly tall player with sandy-blonde hair before striding over to him and the rest of the private school team. I was sure I was going to get whiplash from Liam's changing moods. Once second he was a stuttering mess and the next he was an angry werewolf, embracing his true nature.

"Oh, here we go," Mason muttered, and I bit my lip, glancing at him with a worried expression as we stopped a foot or two behind Liam.

"This is going to end badly, isn't it?" I asked meekly, my eyes flickering back to Brett.

Mason sighed, shaking his head in doubt. "It always does."

"I just wanted to say"—Liam paused, staring up at his former teammate in a tension-filled moment before offering his hand—"have a good game."

The small crowd of students who had gathered around to watch the scene unfold were visibly surprised by Liam's behavior, while Mason looked mildly confused and I felt my tense muscles relax in relief. I would have no clue what to do if Liam got angry and decided to wolf out in front of all these people.

However, I my nerves shifted into overdrive as Brett and his private school goons belted out a chorus of laughter.

"That's cute, Liam," Brett said mockingly, his tone demeaning as he glared down at him. "Is that what they told you to say in Anger Management? Apologize and everything's fine?" I felt my pulse quicken as Brett took a threatening step closer to Liam. "You _demolished_ Coach's car."

"I paid for it," Liam growled, clenching his hand into a fist.

"Yeah, you're going to pay for it. We're going to break you in half out there," Brett told Liam, his tone low and chilling. "And it's going to be all your fault."

My eyes widened in panic as I noticed a drop of blood leak from Liam's hand and I scrambled forward without hesitation or thought, grabbing onto his arm. "Liam, calm down," I murmured. "Let's just go, okay?"

Upon my interference, Brett's eyes flickered to me and I met his gaze hesitantly, looking up at the taller boy through my lashes. His eyebrows furrowed faintly as he stared back at me.

Before anything more could happen, Scott appeared on the other side of Liam and pulled him back by the shoulders while Stiles wedged himself between us and the Devenford players, doing what he did best—diffuse tense situations with nonsense ramblings.

"Hey, what's going on prep students?" he greeted, drawing Brett's attention away from me. "Welcome to our little public high school, how are you doing? I'm Stiles," he introduced, extending a friendly hand. Brett stared blankly at him, unamused, and Stiles replied with a sarcastic, "That's a firm handshake you got there. Uh, we're very excited for the game tonight, but um, let's keep it clean. No rough stuff out there, okay? Alright. See you on the field."

After finishing off his little spiel, Stiles turned and motioned for Scott to make his escape with Liam. Brett glanced at me once more and I glared at him before Stiles wrapped a firm hand around my wrist, towing me behind him as he headed after Scott.

Once Stiles had hauled me into the boy's locker room, he released me from his grip, tossing his backpack to the floor before aiding Scott in switching on the showers and shoving a thrashing Liam under the water. I stood back and wrapped my arms protectively around myself, flinching every time he released a feral growl or a vicious snarl.

"Are you calm yet?" Stiles questioned, allowing him some slack.

A thunderous roar ripped from Liam's throat and my eyes widened as the locker room practically shook from the sound. I instinctively stumbled back a few steps, nearly tripping over some stray lacrosse sticks as Scott and Stiles forced Liam back under the spray of water.

Liam's glowing eyes flickered in my direction, and when I met his gaze, the yellow of his irises faded away to a calm blue. My pulse started to slow considerably as his fangs retracted and his claws disappeared.

"Okay, okay!" Liam shouted, panting from the exertion of shifting, before collapsing against the shower wall when Scott and Stiles released him.

"That car you smashed—I thought you said it was your teacher's," Scott began.

"He was also my coach," Liam informed, playing with his hands. He glanced from my brother to me before deciding to keep his eyes on the tiled floor. "He benched me for the entire season."

"Why would he do that, Liam?" I asked hesitantly, not entirely sure I wanted to know.

Liam didn't meet my eyes. "I got a couple red cards," he mumbled.

"Just a couple?" Stiles echoed, his tone laced with disbelief.

Liam bit his lip, but didn't respond.

Scott knelt down to be eye level with him. "You have to be honest with us. What else happened?"

"Nothing," Liam replied, his voice rising slightly in defense. He lowered his eyes again. "I got kicked out of school. They sent me to a psychologist for an evaluation."

"What did they call it?" Scott inquired curiously.

"Intermittent Explosive Disorder."

"I.E.D.? You're _literally_ an I.E.D.? That's great," Stiles commented, sounding bitterly amused by the acronym the initials of Liam's disorder formed. He gave Scott an extremely sarcastic thumbs-up. "You gave superpowers to a walking time bomb."

At the fleeting expression of vulnerability that crossed Liam's face, I glanced over at Stiles and cast him a disapproving look, to which he dramatically rolled his eyes, waving me off.

"Did they give you anything for it?" Scott questioned.

"Risperdal," Liam answered. "It's an antipsychotic."

"Well, this just gets better, doesn't it?" Stiles interjected, clasping his hands together.

"Stiles," I warned, becoming more than irritated by his unnecessary comments.

"But I don't take it," Liam continued.

"Obviously."

"_Stiles_," I snapped, causing him to finally clamp his mouth shut.

"One of the side effects is drowsiness," Liam explained, purposefully looking at Stiles. "I can't play lacrosse on it. It makes me too tired."

"Okay, I think you should bail out of the game," Scott suggested. "Tell Coach your ankle is still bothering you."

"No, no!" Liam responded adamantly, pushing to his feet. "I can do this." He caught my eyes and held my gaze. "Especially if you're there."

"It's not just about the game, Liam," I confessed, once again finding comfort by fiddling with the sleeves of my sweater. "I really think you should consider just staying on the sidelines for this one."

Liam moved to step toward me, but Scott pressed a hand against his chest, not allowing his beta to come too close. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

I bit the inside of my cheek, my eyes flickering between Stiles and Scott, looking for some kind of moral support. "We think the person that killed Demarco is on the team," I told him.

Liam's eyebrows furrowed. "Who's Demarco?"

"The guy that brought the beer to Lydia's lake house. He was beheaded, you know," Stiles trailed off, sliding his index finger across his neck.

"We think the person who ordered the beer . . . killed Demarco," Scott explained.

My eyes quickly flickered to my brother as my heartbeat kicked up a few notches. Scott and Stiles hadn't informed me of that crucial piece of information. While Scott didn't acknowledge my quickening pulse, Liam glanced over at her, his eyes questioning.

"What is it?" Scott questioned, looking between us. "Do you guys know something?"

Liam shook his head. "I don't know who ordered the keg"—his eyes slid over to me once again—"but I know who paid for it. And so does Joey."

"Garrett," I muttered, the realization hitting me like a freight train. Garrett was an assassin. Garrett killed innocent people for money._ Garrett killed people. _

"Joey, are you okay?" Scott asked, his voice touched with worry.

_Garrett killed people. _

I shook my head in disbelief, attempting to remove the thought from my head. "I-I'm fine. The game's starting soon and I, um—I told Mason I would sit with him, so I should probably go find him."

My words came out more rushed and jumbled than I intended, but I was experiencing an internal freak out, and Liam's eyes burning holes into my skin wasn't helping. I needed to get out of here.

_Garrett killed people. _

"Okay, we'll see you before the scrimmage?" Scott asked.

I nodded and turned on my heels, hastily pushing my way out of the locker room with the same three words playing on a loop in my mind.

x

**A/N:** Major edits to this chapter! I completely redid the first two parts because I didn't like the old way it was written. I want Joey to be more apart of the action since this _is_ a Liam/OC story.

Read on! :)


	7. Beacon Hills vs Devenford Prep

chapter seven:  
_beacon hills vs. devenford prep: werewolf style_

* * *

"I still don't get this." Malia slapped her hands down onto her open Calculus notebook in frustration, startling me as I was trying to read next to her. "I will _never_ get this."

"Not with that attitude," Lydia chirped from her desk, spinning around in her chair to face the us, sprawled out comfortably on her double bed.

"You spent a majority of your life running through the woods and living off deer. It's going to take some time," I consoled gently, reaching forward to squeeze Malia's shoulder reassuringly. "You'll get the hang of it eventually."

Malia groaned and shoved a pillow over her face. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Joey," she mumbled. "But it doesn't take Lydia's banshee abilities to predict the death of my Calculus grade this semester."

Lydia made a sound of amusement while I glanced at Malia sympathetically, wishing there was more I could do for her. I knew how hard it was over these last few months for Malia to integrate into society as a normal teenager and I felt for her. For most of my life I thought I didn't belong anywhere, until Scott was bitten and brought all our friends together.

Silence fell over the room for a moment as Lydia scrolled through webpages, presumably about banshees, on her laptop while Malia continued to grumble into one of the strawberry-blonde's pillows. I returned to my novel, and the three of us lounged in contentment for a few minutes.

The shrill sound of the phone ringing shattered the silence, startling all of us. Lydia glanced over at me and Malia before swiping the phone off her dresser and leaving the room.

I went back to my book once again and continued to read as Malia flipped through Lydia's math notes.

"Stiles is worried about you, you know," she commented suddenly. "Scott is too."

Drawing my eyebrows together in confusion, I peered over my book at her. "What do you mean?" I asked. "What do they have to be worried about with me?"

Malia looked over her shoulder, her brown eyes finally meeting my questioning stare. "Liam."

I immediately glanced away from her, closing my book. "Liam," I repeated, before pushing up off the bed because I suddenly felt like I couldn't sit still. "What does Liam have to do with—"

"I never told you this, Joey," Malia began quietly. "But during lacrosse tryouts—the same day you met Liam—I could smell the emotions coming off of him every time he looked at you. His scents were so strong they overpowered everyone else's."

I stared at her, listening to what she had to say while turning the information over in my head, trying to figure out why Malia was telling me this.

Malia sighed, exasperatedly throwing down the pencil she had been fiddling with. "My point is, Liam wanted you before Scott bit him. He wanted you bad, Joey. His feelings for you were already established before he turned. And right now, those feelings have been heightened to a degree that he might not always be able to control."

I swallowed, trying to ease the sudden dryness in my throat. "What does that _mean_, Malia?" I asked, my voice just above a whisper.

"It means that no matter what Scott says or does, no matter what happens with the deadpool or the assassins . . . Liam won't be able to stay away from you," she replied. "If he's been fighting his feelings all this time — and I suspect he has — it won't be long before he acts on them because he may not be able to stop himself from doing so. And when that happens, I want you to be prepared." Malia then paused, looking at me warily. "Scott asked me not to tell you, but you've always been honest with me, so I think I should show you the same courtesy."

My mind was spinning and my thoughts were absolutely reeling. I was so gob smacked by Malia's words that I momentarily forget how to use my own. Liam had feelings for me? And he was going to act on them? Why did I need to be prepared for that?

God, I was such an idiot. Liam had liked me all this time, right from the beginning. How could someone like him possibly like _me_, out of all the girls in the freshmen class? He could have anyone he wanted and he chose me. _Me_, Josephine McCall, little sister to an alpha werewolf—who happened to bite him with a set of supernatural fangs and turn him into one, too. I had let Scott and Stiles kidnap him, I lied to him about the party at the lake house, and I'd done nothing while Derek tormented him in the locker room.

I wanted to smack my palm to my forehead for being such a freaking _idiot_. A moron. A dense, idiotic _moron_.

"We have to go." Lydia's anxious voice yanked me from my thoughts. The strawberry-blonde scurried into the room, tossing the phone down to gather her sweater and car keys.

I watched Lydia with a concerned expression while Malia got to her feet. "What's wrong?"

"It's Meredith," Lydia responded. "She wants to see me."

* * *

On their journey to the police station, Lydia and Malia swung by the lacrosse scrimmage, dropping me on the edge of the field. After exchanging our goodbyes, the car screeched away, disappearing down the road.

A distant voice called out my name, and I turned around to locate the source among all the pre-game commotion, the faint wind gently lifting my chocolate curls from my shoulders. Through thick crowds of spectators and lacrosse players, I spotted Mason with his hands cupped around his mouth.

"Joey, over here!" he called, waving his arms in the air.

A small smile curved my lips as I raised an arm to wave back. I liked Mason a lot. His friendly nature and extroverted personality made him easy company. He always had something to talk about and I was always content to listen, contributing to the conversation every now and then with my own comments. I thought we made a good duo.

I started my way toward him, down the field, where the Beacon Hills team was lingering around the benches, talking amongst themselves and preparing for the game. I mentally took note of Scott, Kira, Stiles, and a few other players in maroon jerseys whom I recognized. I even saw Garrett—essentially _everyone_ except the bright-eyed boy I was subconsciously searching for.

I hesitated before beginning to maneuver through the area Devenford Prep had claimed for their team. I walked cautiously, careful not to bump into any of the private school players as they dressed and joked around with one another. I passed Brett, chancing a tentative glance up at him. He looked back down at me as he unfolded his green uniform t-shirt, his eyes following me across the field as I headed over to where Mason was standing.

"Hey!" Mason greeted brightly, wrapping me in a quick hug. "For a minute there, I thought you were going to bail on me."

I gently pushed his shoulder. "Would've missed me that bad, Mase?"

"I would have," a voice said lowly into my ear.

The hairs on the back of my neck bristled in reaction to Liam's presence and I spun around, startled. He really needed to stop sneaking up on me.

The edges of Liam's pink lips curved into a tender smirk, his blue eyes bright and alive under the field lights, and I quickly decided he was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

. . . _Liam wanted you before Scott bit him_ . . .

_He wanted you bad . . . _

_. . . his feelings have been heightened to a degree that he might not always be able to control. _

_. . . it won't be long before he acts on them . . . _

_. . . I want you to be prepared. _

Soft color warmed my cheeks and I looked down at my ankle boots, avoiding Liam's eyes as my thoughts echoed Malia's words back to me. I was such a mess.

"So, you going to kick some ass tonight or what?" Mason asked.

"Oh, yeah," Liam answered as he glared at Brett, who was calmly gearing up for the game a few feet away. "Definitely."

As if he could hear their conversation, Brett glanced over in our direction as he strapped on his shoulder pads, his eyes going straight for me. A snarl left Liam's lips and Brett smirked, causing me to look away awkwardly, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear as I nervously pulled at the sleeves of my sweater.

Mason only laughed, evidently finding the entire exchange rather amusing. "Checking out Brett is the fastest way to piss Liam off. He practically bit my head off earlier for doing the same thing."

Liam rolled his eyes and shook his head at Mason while I stayed quiet, having no idea how to react to his comment. I grew wary as I watched Liam continue to glower at Brett, his hand clenching into a fist.

I wrapped both of my small hands around Liam's wrist, bringing his eyes to me and away from his former teammate. "Hey, don't do anything stupid, okay?" I said softly.

"I can take him," he assured. He gestured to his best friend with his lacrosse stick. "Mason agrees with me—right, Mason?"

Mason, who looked like he hadn't really been paying attention to our conversation, nodded in mindless agreement, his eyes across the field. "Liam can totally take him."

"That's not the point," I told him. "I don't want you to hurt him."

I felt his pulse quicken under my fingers. Not a good sign.

"Why are you trying to protect him? Do you like him or something?" Liam nearly growled at me, causing my eyes to widen.

I couldn't even believe he asked me that with a straight face. Yes, I could maturely admit, Brett had a body surely bestowed upon him by the heavens above, but being physically attractive certainly did not excuse his jerk of a personality. And he wasn't Liam. Liam was the whole package—he had the looks _and_ the complex personality. He could be angry and strong one minute, but the next, he was something entirely different, something more fragile that absolutely melted my heart.

_Oh, my God. _I liked him. I _really_ liked him.

"No, Liam—no, of course not," I responded honestly. "I just—"

"He wants to destroy me," Liam cut me off. "You heard what he said to me at the buses. If I don't hurt him, he'll hurt me first."

"I just don't want you to do something you'll regret," I replied, finishing my earlier sentence. "Personally, I would_ love_ to watch you kick his ass up and down this field"—Liam's expression softened, his lips lifting into a smirk at my choice of words—"but with the abilities you have, the weight of hurting another person is a heavy one to bare."

I knew this firsthand. I remembered everything Scott went through over the past year and I didn't want Liam to experience any of the pain my brother did. I wouldn't be able to take it another time around.

"I get it," Liam mumbled, looking a bit ashamed of his behavior. He sighed, glancing over at the Devenford team once more. "This scrimmage is just really important to me."

The corners of my mouth nudged into a small smile. "I get it."

Liam bit his lip ever so slightly as he grinned at me.

Lord save me.

I really, _really_ liked him.

His blue eyes then flickered past me and the smile slipped off his face. "Seriously, Mason?" Liam demanded as he gave his best friend—who was openly appreciating Brett's stature—a disapproving glare. "_Again_?"

Mason held his hands up in surrender before turning and heading toward the bleachers.

"I should probably go too," I said, slowly letting my hands fall away from Liam's wrist. "The game's going to start soon."

Liam gently grabbed me by the arm before I could turn away. "What about Garrett?" he asked, his eyes swimming with anxiety and worry.

"Don't worry about Garrett. Scott has your back out there."

"Dunbar!" Coach Finstock boomed. "Let's go! I said _asses on the field_!"

"Okay, Coach!" Liam shouted in response.

"You can do this," I assured him, repeating his words back to him.

"As long as you're close by," he whispered.

I, surprised by his statement, simply nodded before turning to climb up the bleachers toward Mason.

"Can you two please just _do it_ already?" he groaned, sliding over to create space for me.

My eyes widened as I sat down beside him. "_What_?"

"You and Liam," Mason explained in a nonchalant tone, watching the players as they took their respective positions on the field. "There's obviously sexual frustrations there. Well, on his end at least."

Before I could even start to comprehend Mason's words or contemplate what they meant, the whistle sounded and the scrimmage began.

Devenford was quick to take possession of the ball, and my attention was scrambled all over the field as I attempted to keep track of Liam, Scott, Kira, _and_ Stiles, while also trying to keep an eye on Garrett. So far, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

The ball was passed to Brett, and my eyes followed him down the field as he maneuvered swiftly around our defense players, toward our goal. Brett sent the ball sailing into the net within seconds, and Mason and I groaned as the first point of the night went to Devenford Prep.

In the next play, Scott faced Brett in the draw for the ball. The referee blew the whistle and Brett swiped the small object from the grass faster than I could blink. He soared down the field, and I heard someone call out Liam's name as he headed straight for him. I watched in horror as two opposing players slammed into Liam full force, sending him plummeting to the ground.

Just as Brett scored another point, Liam stood up, whipping off his helmet. His gloves were the next piece of gear to go and my breath hitched in my throat as he angrily launched himself at his old teammates. Thankfully, Scott and Stiles intercepted him before he could reach them, pushing him back as he struggled with a murderous expression on his face.

"Liam," I whispered under my breath. "Remember your anchor. _You can do this._"

I bit my lip as Liam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. A sigh of relief left me when he opened them a moment later and calmly pulled away from Scott and Stiles. Scott cast me a grateful nod, and I nodded back before taking a glance at Brett, who had observed the entire altercation with an amused expression. He and Scott exchanged a look before both teams set up for the next play.

The game continued with Stiles lining up against a Devenford player that had to be twice his size. The whistle sounded, and I don't know how Stiles had managed to scoop up the ball before the other player, but I cheered loudly as he ran off with it. He passed to Kira, who was light on her feet as she maneuvered down the field, effortlessly weaving through Devenford defenders. The crowd — Mason and I included — shouted joyously when she scored, earning Beacon Hills their first point. The excitement died down as she was taken off the field for not passing the ball as Coach had instructed.

The scrimmage commenced afterward and I could feel the tension thicken in the air. I bit the inside of my cheek as I sat on the edge of my seat, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees, my eyes glued to the field. I had a feeling something bad was going to happen.

And I was right.

Sometime during the night, the ball had managed to land in the grass, a distance away from most of the players. I watched as Brett and Garrett ran head-to-head for it while Liam came in from the side, preparing to tackle Brett down for the ball.

Then everything was a blur.

The three of them collided violently, creating a sickening sound, and I gasped along with the rest of the crowd, my hands flying to my mouth in shock as they tumbled to the ground.

I heard Liam cry out, and before I could even think about what I was doing, I raced off the bleachers toward the field.

"Kira, did you see what happened?" I rushed out as I joined her on the sidelines, trying to find Liam among the dozens of bodies crowded on the grass. "Is Liam okay? Did Garrett hurt him?"

"I don't know, Jo," she replied softly, looking up at me with sympathetic eyes. "It happened too fast. I don't think anyone saw."

I felt instant relief once I finally located Scott, Stiles, and Liam, standing together off to the side of all the chaos. His blue eyes flickered over in my direction and he gave me a nod, telling me he was okay. Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for Brett.

He was still lying on the ground, obviously in too much pain to try and move. Groans and other sounds of agony escaped his lips as a paramedic and one of the referees carefully hauled him up. Following Brett's departure from the field, the scrimmage came to a halt while the players, coaches, and spectators began to readjust to the aftermath of his injury. Scott, Stiles, and Kira conversed in hushed voices beside me as I watched Liam have a discussion with Coach Finstock a few feet away.

Coach patted Liam on the shoulder before walking over to consult with the coach of the Devenford Prep team.

"I'm out for the rest of game," Liam announced as he joined us. He stood next to me and clenched his jaw, disappointment evident on his face.

I looked at him, absentmindedly running my fingers over his healed arm. "Are you okay?" I asked, my voice quiet.

The corners of his mouth curved into a soft smile and he reached for my hand, gently lacing his fingers through mine. "Yeah, I'm okay."

I nodded, a blush surfacing on my cheeks. "Good—that's um, that's good."

Liam's just continued to grin at me, sending my stupid girl hormones into a frenzy.

"What are you going to do?" I heard Kira question Scott, her voice bringing me back to the conversation at hand.

Scott shook his head, looking at a loss for words. "I don't know," he replied truthfully. "Something's still not right, we're missing something."

"Yeah, but what?" Stiles questioned.

My phone vibrated, distracting me, and I used the hand Liam wasn't holding to dig the device out of my pocket. My friends continued to talk around me as I opened the message from Lydia, clicking on the attached image.

My chest constricted in fear as I realized what the picture was. "Guys." My voice was frantic, grabbing their attention. "Lydia just texted me. She broke another third of the list."

"Am I on it?" Liam asked immediately, his grip on my hand tightening as he leaned toward me to look at my iPhone screen. His warm breath fanned over my ear and I hoped he couldn't hear the way my pulse jumped at the contact.

"No," I whispered, scrolling through the list of names again. Coming across a name I didn't notice the first time, I froze. "But someone else is."

"Who?" Stiles inquired anxiously.

I exchanged an uneasy look with Liam, who had seen the name too, before I looked over toward the others.

"Brett."

x

**A/N:** I'm almost done editing, guys! I think the story reads much more smoothly now and I hope you guys think so too! Just one more chapter to edit before I post the new one!


	8. Equally Human

chapter eight:  
_equally human_

* * *

"_Brett_?" Stiles echoed incredulously, clumsily snatching my phone from my hand to squint down at the list. "Yepp—yes, that definitely says Brett Talbot," he rambled on, and I almost laughed at his typical spastic response to crisis, but then I was reminded by all the nervous energy bubbling up inside me that absolutely nothing about the current situation was the least bit funny.

"Garrett must have stabbed him when they ran into each other," Kira spoke up, her voice soft as always.

"I need to find Brett," Scott s decided. "Something doesn't feel right."

Kira nodded understandingly and Stiles gave him a two finger salute as he hastily began to push through the crowds of people, heading toward the school building.

"Wait—Scott," I called, readying to follow him. Being an alpha werewolf didn't make him invincible, and with twenty-five million dollars looming over his head like a dark cloud, I didn't like the idea of him going anywhere alone. There were too many unknown dangers out there now.

"Hey, Jo," Stiles said softly, gently holding me back by the arm. "He'll be okay. Garrett's out here, so unless he's figured out a way to be in two places at once—which, honestly, doesn't sound completely out of the supernatural realm of possibility—,"

"What Stiles means is," Kira quickly interrupted, noticing the growing panic on my face. "Garrett's out here, where we can keep an eye on him, and Scott's inside, completely out of harm's way."

"Yeah," Stiles added lamely, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "That's um—that's what I meant."

"Yukimura!" Coach Finstock suddenly shouted. "You're in for Dunbar! Let's go!"

Kira nodded and hustled over, pulling her helmet back on. I sighed as the scrimmage started back up, with Coach blowing his whistle at his players and yelling about "where the hell McCall went" in between plays.

"Are you okay, Joey?" Liam murmured, startling me. I'd been so wrapped up in my own thoughts over the past couple of minutes, and Liam had been so quiet, I'd nearly forgotten he was here.

"No," I mumbled mournfully in response, staring out at the field—staring at Garrett. He had scored another point for Beacon Hills and the crowd was cheering him on, making me feel sick to my stomach. "No, I'm not okay."

The whistle blew, signaling the start of another play, and as Garrett turned away from the goal to move back to his position, he caught my eyes, sending me a chilling smirk. A low growl escaped Liam's lips and I looked up at him as he released my hand to wrap his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side. Garrett's eyes lingered on the two of us for a moment before he looked away.

"Smug bastard," Stiles muttered. "It doesn't make any sense."

"What doesn't?" I asked curiously, glancing over at my lanky friend.

"Why Garrett is still out here, looking like he doesn't have a care in the world, instead of going after Brett," Stiles explained. "I mean, think about it. Why would he go through all the effort to stab him, but then just let him go?"

The pieces suddenly fit together in my mind as I remembered Garrett's girlfriend, Violet. I remembered seeing her at the lake house party after Demarco left, and then in English class the day after Carrie Hudson's death, with a scratch on her neck. A scratch that looked a lot like claw marks.

"Because he's not working alone," I whispered in realization, looking at Stiles with fearful brown eyes as the weight of pure panic I felt threatened to crush me. I quickly moved from Liam's grip, ready to take off toward the school building and track down Scott. "We have to find Scott. Now."

"No, no, no," Stiles rushed, stumbling his way out in front of me. "It's too dangerous. I'll go."

"We're equally human, Stiles," I reminded, going to step around him. "I can handle it."

Stiles mirrored my movement, blocking my path once more. "Really? A fifteen-year-old girl can handle murderous assassins? We don't how many there are or what kind of weapons they have, Joey. Just stay here with Liam and I'll make sure Scott's okay. I always do, don't I?"

We both knew I couldn't argue with that, so I gave Stiles a reluctant nod before watching him run off in the direction Scott had gone earlier.

"They'll be fine, Joey," Liam said softly from behind me.

I shook my head dubiously as I turned to face him. "I hope so," I whispered.

While sitting on the team bench sometime later—I didn't know exactly when because counting the minutes of Stiles and Scott's absence had driven me crazy—my phone vibrated. Liam was standing close to me, in the process of stripping out of his lacrosse gear and shoving the pieces inside his practice duffle resting beside me on the bench.

I didn't hesitate to pull my phone out, rushing to open the message on my screen once I saw it was from Scott.

_Coast is clear. I need your help in the locker rooms ASAP. _

"Scott just texted me," I told Liam as I stood to my feet. "He's okay, but he needs my help."

Liam took a step after me as I made to leave. "Do you—um, d-do you want me to come with you?" he asked uncertainly.

I smiled at him. "No, I'll be okay."

"Are you sure?" he questioned, stopping me again.

"I'll be fine, Liam," I replied softly. "Besides, someone needs to stay here with Kira. I don't like her and Garrett being on the field together without someone watching her back."

Liam nodded slowly as he looked at me with a worried expression. "Be careful, okay?"

I could tell he was reluctant to let me go off alone, but I didn't let the thought slow me down as I rushed away, eager to see Scott.

My steps faltered in a moment of hesitation as I arrived at the school's entrance, but I swallowed my fear and pushed inside, jogging down the darkened hallways on shaky legs. After wandering down several identical halls, I found Stiles at the end of the only lit corridor, lingering in front of the boy's locker room with his phone pressed to his ear.

"Hey, finally!" Stiles exclaimed upon noticing me coming toward him. He got off the phone and nonchalantly stepped over the body lying on the floor, the same way someone would step over a puddle on the sidewalk. "What took you so long? We have to get Brett out of here before my dad shows up with the goon squad."

Drawing my eyebrows together in confusion, I stepped around my friend and peered into the locker room. My eyes widened at the sight of Brett and Violet, sprawled out on the floor, completely out cold.

I glanced up at Scott. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"She attacked Brett and then when I got in here she tried to decapitate me with her freaky, glowing necklace," he explained. He scratched behind his head and shrugged sheepishly. "And I sort of knocked her out."

"Good." I nodded, looking at Violet warily, like she would wake up any second. "She's Garrett's girlfriend."

"Well, you know what they say," Stiles commented. "The couple that kills together, stays together."

Scott and I gave him similarly unamused looks.

He raised his eyebrows. "Too soon? Yeah, okay. Got it."

Shaking my head at Stiles' antics, I walked over to Brett and knelt down beside him, gently pressing two fingers to his neck where his pulse should be. His six-foot-something body jerked at the contact and his eyes snapped open, revealing a pair of brilliant yellow irises. I gasped in surprise and hastily stumbled up to my feet, where Scott steadied me.

We watched as Brett's eyes faded back to pale green before falling shut again.

"What's wrong with him?" I whispered.

"I'm not sure," Scott answered truthfully, looking at Brett with his eyebrows furrowed in concern. "Whatever it is, it's working fast. Stiles, do you think you could get him to Deaton?"

"Yeah, yeah, definitely," Stiles told him.

"Okay, Joey, you help Stiles with Brett and then come back as soon as possible," Scott ordered. "In the meantime, I'll try and keep everyone out of here."

Stiles and I nodded before moving toward Brett. We each draped one of Brett's muscular arms over our shoulders before attempting to haul him up. After making a few awkward adjustments, we were finally balanced enough to walk.

Combining our limited human strength, Stiles and I had managed to drag Brett out to the parking lot and haphazardly stuff him into the passenger seat of Stiles' little blue jeep.

Brett — teetering on the evidently thin line of consciousness and unconsciousness — grunted as he tried to rearrange himself into a more comfortable position in the confined space he was crammed into.

Stiles simply rolled his eyes at the werewolf and slammed the door shut before heading around the front of the car. "I'm going to call Derek on the way to the clinic. I'll text you if we find anything out," he said. He then hopped into his jeep and waved goodbye before speeding out of the parking lot.

Police sirens sounded in the distance, and I wrapped my arms around myself as I stood in the cold California night, silently wondering how all of this became my life.

x

**A/N:** I'm finally done with editing and I'm so happy that I can start working on the new chapters. So, about this chapter, I changed a lot of things, which made it shorter in comparison to the other chapters. I cut out the part where Joey and Liam fought, and then I cut out the part where they almost kissed. The fight scene between them didn't really flow since I just forced it in to maybe make the story more interesting, but after re-reading it, I just didn't think it fit well. Same deal with the almost kiss, it just didn't fit in well. And personally, I think it happened too fast. I'm actually going to incorporate that somewhere else.

Anyway, I hope to have chapter nine up by Sunday at the latest, so keep an eye out!


	9. The Clock is Ticking

chapter nine:  
_the clock is ticking_

* * *

**QUICK BEFORE YOU READ  
**

I'm back, guys!

I hate putting author's notes before a chapter because I think it disrupts the whole reading experience and putting yourself in the story and whatnot, but it's important you're aware of this before you read on. **I have edited the previous chapters** and I've made major changes to some of them, so before you read this new chapter, I suggest going back and reading the old ones, starting at **chapter two**. That's all I have to say up here, but I promise, I'll have lots to say at the end.

I hope you enjoy this chapter! :)

* * *

Liam pushed through the closest set of blue double doors leading into the school, his hand gripping firmly onto mine as he pulled me along with him in our search for Scott.

The hallway just inside was bustling with activity, the police attempting to put the pieces of the crime together by discussing logical motives, questioning spectators who could have been possible witnesses, and talking to students who were friends with Garrett and Violet. The lacrosse team was gathered in front of Coach Finstock outside his office, creating a small commotion as they talked over one another, wanting to retrieve their belongings from the locker room.

"Guys, back off! You can get your gear tomorrow," Finstock told the boys in a stern voice.

Liam released my hand and wrapped his arm around my waist, bringing me closer as he began to weave through his teammates crowding the hallway. A blush flared wildly on my cheeks, but thankfully, Liam seemed too distracted to notice.

"If anybody sees Garrett, you notify the police immediately," Coach continued as Liam and I headed farther down the hall. "Then tell him he's off the damn team."

I wanted to smile at Coach's ending comment, but I felt too drained by the night's events to even manage a simple lift of my lips. All I really felt like doing was going home to wrap myself in the soft blankets of my bed and pretend_—_at least for a few hours_—_the supernatural monsters I knew of didn't exist.

Liam suddenly came to a stop, causing me to glance up at him questioningly, and he nodded around the corner, where I saw my father and Scott having a discussion.

My eyes widened in surprise. "Dad," I said, gently pushing myself out of Liam's hold to head over to my family members.

"Josephine, thank God you're okay," Dad stated in a rush of relief, wrapping me in a comforting hug, which I gladly reciprocated.

Though my relationship with my father had been rocky over the past couple of years, and I was angry when he first decided to return to Beacon Hills, I was grateful he was in my life again, giving both me and Scott a chance to mend the broken relationship.

"Dad, I told you we were both fine," Scott reassured after we broke apart. "Really, we're okay."

Our father let out a remorseful sigh and shook his head. "I should have been here," he began. "I said I would be at the games."

"This was just a pre-season scrimmage, Dad," I told him, trying ease his guilt.

"I didn't even tell you about it," Scott added.

"I promised your mother I would be around, so she could pick up some more shifts at the hospital. I should have been here," Dad repeated in a soft voice.

"You're here now," Scott replied gently, while I gave our father a tender smile, showing I felt the same as Scott_—_we wouldn't hold it against him.

"_Jordan Parrish_," I suddenly heard a familiar voice say from behind me.

Glancing over my shoulder, I felt my pulse speed up in fright and I instinctively grabbed for my brother's hand as I watched Deputy Parrish escort Violet out of the boy's locker room, heading in our direction. Sheriff Stilinski trailed close behind, carrying an evidence bag, which I assumed held the freaky necklace Violet had used to attack Brett and Scott.

"_Deputy_ Parrish," the young officer told Violet in a firm voice.

Violet rolled her eyes, but didn't say anything else as she noticed me and Scott standing together on the other side of the hall. The edges of her lips curved into a smirk that sent chills down my spine. Tightening his hand around mine, Scott glared back at the dark-haired girl with a hard expression until Parrish disappeared with her around the corner.

The Sheriff came over to consult with our dad, but I tuned out of the conversation as I recalled the smug expression on Violet's face when she had walked by. Something about the situation just didn't feel right to me. Somehow, I knew this scenario wasn't going to end with Garrett and Violet simply going to jail without a fight or _some_ form of retaliation.

And I was scared to death of what was yet to come.

"Parrish, hold up!" I heard Dad raise his voice, startling me enough to pull me out of my thoughts. I watched with wide eyes as my father and Sheriff Stilinski headed around the corner, over to where Deputy Parrish had stopped with Violet.

Choosing the moment to come out from behind the wall he was standing behind, Liam walked over to join me and Scott.

"Where's Kira?" Scott asked.

"She took off," I told him in a whisper, biting the inside of my cheek as I watched his reaction.

"Stiles told her about Lydia cracking the second part of the deadpool," Liam explained further.

Realization crossed Scott's face. "Her mom's on it."

"Everyone's on it," Liam replied.

"You're not," I stated softly.

Liam shook his head with a clear expression of worry. "Not yet," he clarified. "There's still another third, right?"

Scott was no longer paying attention and I recognized the vacant look on his face. His eyes were on the other side of the hallway, where our dad was talking to Violet, his ear angled slightly in their direction. Liam caught on and turned his head to look over at them, listening in on the conversation.

"What are they saying?" I asked hesitantly.

Glancing at me, Scott shook his head, obviously wanting to spare me the details. "Garrett and Violet have killed a lot of people," he said, his expression grim.

The information sent another chill rolling through me. I wasn't best friends with the pair, but I had still talked to them every once and while. A duo of murderers_—__assassins__—_had sat next to me in class and talked to me in Lydia's lake house like they hadn't been hunting down my friends for money. And the worst part, I didn't even know it.

"Coach, I'm going to need both their locker numbers," Sheriff Stilinski called as his deputy's started to haul Violet away. "And a pair of bolt cutters."

* * *

Soft rays of sunlight streamed through the balcony doors of my bedroom the next morning, illuminating my face. I groaned and rolled away from the light, bringing my pillow over my head to cover my eyes.

I had a long night to say the least.

After the parade of police officers had cleared out of the locker room, Scott and Liam thought it would be a good idea to check out Garrett's gym locker. Since I already knew what they'd find in there_—_a whole bunch of nothing_—_I'd opted to head home instead, and caught a ride with Stiles when he'd come back to the school to get filled in on what was happening. Once he dropped me off, I had to read three chapters of _To Kill a Mockingbird_ for English and finish up my economics homework for Finstock's class. By the time I had finally settled into bed, I was exhausted.

"Jo." I heard Scott's soft voice as a knock sounded on my bedroom door. "Jo, it's time to get up. Stiles is going to be here in like, twenty minutes."

With a moan of protest, I reluctantly untangled myself from the warmth of my blankets and headed across the cold wood floors toward my bathroom. Running a hand through my chocolate locks, I flicked on the light switch, but paused in the doorway when nothing happened. I flicked the switch up and down a few more times, hoping the lights would miraculously come on, but they never did.

I sighed tiredly and walked across the hallway. "Scott, can I use your_—_," I cut myself off upon entering my brother's room, where he was in the process of shoving a duffle bag stuffed with money under his bed.

"I was going to tell you," he began quickly, noticing the surprised expression on my face. "I found it in Garrett's locker last night."

I blinked in shock before hastily turning to close Scott's bedroom door. "And you didn't give it to the police?" I asked in disbelief. "Scott, they'll need all the evidence they can get to build a case against Garrett."

I was starting to panic. I wasn't a detective or anything, but wasn't stealing dirty money from an assassin some kind of crime?

"I just"_—_Scott shook his head, like he couldn't believe he had taken it either_—_"I made a split second decision, but now . . . I don't really know what to do." He met my eyes with a look of gentle worry. "We could use the money, Jo."

"Is that the reason the lights aren't working?" I questioned hesitantly.

Looking away from me, Scott nodded. "Mom was on the phone with the electric company earlier," he informed quietly, his eyes drifting back to the duffle bag. "They turned the power off because she couldn't pay the bill."

A moment of silence followed as we both realized just how much trouble we were really in. I had known things were gradually becoming tighter around the house over the past couple of months, and I'd had to give up some extra luxuries like my favorite snacks and shopping sprees with Lydia, but I had no idea our money problems were this bad.

"What are we going to do, Scott?" I whispered helplessly.

Scott pushed the money under his bed and stood up. "We're going to go to school, just like we always do," he told me decisively. "I don't want you worrying about this, Joey."

"You're not in this alone," I assured him in a gentle voice. "You can't always handle everything on your own, Scott."

Taking a deep breath, Scott closed his eyes and pulled at his hair. "I know."

Seeing the distress written all over my brother's face, I crossed the room to him and wrapped him into a consoling hug. I could tell by the way he held me back that he needed the comfort, but I really needed it too.

* * *

"Okay, let's start with a brief summary of last night's reading," Coach announced after the bell rang, a thin, cynical smile on his lips. "Who would like the honor of enlightening the class?"

I sat at a desk in the far corner of the room_—_as far from Finstock as I could get_—_and discreetly pulled out my phone, checking for new messages. I'd been checking the device periodically over the last four periods, hoping to see a text from Liam displayed on the screen. We'd been messaging each other frequently since the night at the lake house, but I had yet to hear from him today, which I found unusual. His desk in the front row was also vacant, and since he hadn't shown up to history earlier this morning, I was beginning to grow concerned.

"Greenberg, put your hand down," Finstock said at the front of room. "Everybody knows you did the reading."

While Coach proceeded to pick at his freshmen lacrosse players one by one, I leaned over to tap Mason on the shoulder.

"Have you heard from Liam?" I whispered, glancing at his empty chair once more.

Mason frowned. "I was going to ask you that," he murmured.

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"All I know is that he was totally acting weird on our run this morning_—_like, weirder than usual," he explained, his eyes flickering to Coach every once and while to make sure he wasn't paying attention to our conversation. "He ran off and then I couldn't find him. I haven't seen him since and he's not answering my texts."

"Mine either," I replied sullenly, panic beginning to claw up my throat, threatening to cut off my oxygen supply.

Liam was missing. I just knew it in my heart.

"We should talk to your brother," Mason suggested. "Him and Liam hang out a lot, right? Maybe he saw him this morning and knows where he is."

I nodded half-heartedly in agreement, sinking into my seat as my pulse began climbing to erratic heights. Garrett was still out there, roaming around Beacon Hills with a knife and a rare form of wolfs bane capable of killing werewolves within a few hours.

What were the chances Liam's sudden disappearance was just an innocent coincidence?

I thought slim to none.

The bell rang forty tortuous minutes later, and I quickly gathered my belongings before heading out in search of Scott, with Mason following close behind. I was surprised to find him waiting by my locker, a worried expression on his face.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?" he asked urgently, looking me over in concern, searching for any visible injury. "I could hear your heart beating from the other side of the school."

"It's Liam," I began, glancing once at Mason. "We think he's missing. Mason hasn't seen him since their run in the woods this morning and he wasn't in history or economics."

"And he's not responding to my texts," Mason added, holding up his phone. "Have you heard from him?"

"No, I haven't," Scott muttered admittedly. "Maybe we should ask Coach if he knows something?"

"It's worth a shot," I commented, because honestly, I didn't know what else to do at the moment. "I'll try calling Liam_—_see if he answers."

The two boys nodded before heading off in the direction of Coach's office while I leaned back against my locker and pulled my iPhone out of the Tory Burch purse Lydia had bought me for my fifteenth birthday two months ago.

I unlocked the screen and scrolled down my contact list to Liam's name.

I bit anxiously at my bottom lip as I held my phone to my ear, listening to it ring. The call went to voicemail and I closed my eyes with a sigh of disappointment. I didn't expect Liam to pick up, but there had been a small part of me hoping he would have.

My phone abruptly began to vibrate in my hand, startling my eyes open, and a wave of relief crashed over me when I saw Liam's name flash across the screen.

"Liam?" I questioned eagerly, pressing the phone to my ear.

A dark chuckle resonated through the speaker. "_Guess again_."

My blood turned to ice and every muscle in my body coiled tight with fear. "Garrett," I whispered.

"_Ding_, _ding_, _ding_," he replied in bitter amusement. "_We have a winner_."

I clutched my phone tighter as I felt a sudden rush of tears begin to brim my eyes. "What do you want?" I asked quietly.

"_For you to meet me in the bus lot_," Garrett instructed. "_We're going to have a little chat about what you're going to do if you ever want to see Liam again_."

"What did you do to him, Garrett?" I demanded, my heart constricting in a mixture of fear and panic. "Where is he?"

"_You have five minutes to meet me or I kill lover boy_," he stated flatly, ignoring my frantic questioning. "_The clock's ticking, Joey_."

x

**A/N: **Guys, it has literally been months since I've updated this and I apologize profusely for making you wait. Really, there are no words to express how sorry I am. School just ended for me a few days ago, and ever since, I've been working on this story. My junior year of high school was by far my busiest and most stressful year. I just didn't have any time on my hands, and truthfully, I did lose inspiration for a little while since Teen Wolf ended. _But_ after watching the trailer for season five, and going back and re-watching some old episodes, I got inspired again! Like, who else is super excited for Season Five? I'm super pumped to see the new Theo character and all this stuff with doctors and of course, Liam!

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! There wasn't much Liam_—_thanks, Jeff Davis_—_but he won't be gone long! And I really wanted to include more of Joey and Scott's brother-sister relationship, so that came up in this chapter with Mama McCall not being to pay the bills and whatnot. How do you guys like how Liam's relationship with Joey is developing? What do you think is going to happen with Garrett? _Also_, I have another recent Liam story out called _Hunting in the Dark_, and if you guys are interested, you can check it out!

My goal for this story is to have the next chapter up within the week, but I'm going on vacation in North Carolina the 19th to the 26th, and I'm going to be packing and getting things in order this week. However, I already have a good amount of chapter ten written, so hopefully I can get it up quick! I'll also be writing during vacation because the place we're staying at has wifi.

And like always, I'd like to thank every one of you for following, favoriting, and reviewing! You guys are so patient with me. I just love reading your reviews and seeing what you think of the story. They really mean a lot to me and motivate me to keep writing!

Okay, I'm done.

Let me know what you think! :)


	10. Lost in the Dark

chapter ten:  
_lost in the dark_

* * *

"Nice timing," Garrett complimented with a smirk as I slowly rounded one of the buses in the empty lot, coming to a stop in front of him, a safe distance away. "You have three minutes to spare."

"Great." I gave him a false, tight-lipped smile. My nerves had risen to dangerous degrees of fear and I couldn't stop trembling, but underneath all my various layers of panic, I felt crashing waves of anger stirring like a looming storm. Liam had done nothing wrong. He didn't deserve this. And once I had him back, I was going to make Garrett pay. "Tell me what I have to do."

Garrett let out an easy laugh, tipping his head back against the bus he was leaning against as he looked up at the sky, twirling his bladed lacrosse stick in his hands. "It's not as simple as that, Joey," he began, his soft blue eyes lazily falling on me, like he was bored of the entire altercation. "Besides, we're still waiting on the third member of our little rescue team."

My expression was somewhere between exasperatedly confused and angrily incredulous. I swore a corner of my eye nearly started to twitch like Stiles'.

Garrett liked games and I wasn't in the mood to play.

"What are you_ talking_ about?" I demanded, digging my manicured nails into my palms in an attempt to maintain control over my roller coaster of emotions. "Just _stop_ with the games. I'll do whatever you want, Garrett. I just want Liam back."

"Ah, yes, little lover boy," Garrett mused. "I'm curious, Joey; how does Scott feel about his first beta fooling around with his baby sister?"

Despite the literal life-or-death circumstances, I blushed profusely and found myself crossing my arms in a defensive manner. "We're not, I mean we haven't—we haven't done anything," I stammered in a mumbled voice, looking down at my riding boots.

"You want to though, right?" Garrett guessed, his tone lowering. I bristled as he moved closer, gently brushing his fingers down my neck and over my shoulder. "You want Liam to show you all those parts of yourself you don't even know exist."

I swallowed at the sudden feeling of dryness in my throat, but before I could manage to find my voice to respond, Garrett abruptly twisted me around by the arm, swiftly pulling my back against his chest and positioning his lacrosse blade at my neck, immediately silencing my yelp of surprise.

My eyes widened at the sight of Scott standing across from us, his irises glowing red like fire as he glared at Garrett, his claws on full display.

"Come on, Scott," Garrett said. "Put those away. We're just going to talk."

"Let her go," Scott growled. "This wasn't our deal. I'm not going to help you if you hurt her."

"Deal?" I whispered. "What deal?"

"You see, this is the fun part," Garrett began. "I knew threatening Liam's life would be enough to persuade Scott to help me with one little task, but I just thought I needed a little extra insurance." I gasped as I felt the knife press into my skin with a bit more force. "You're my insurance, Joey—my insurance that your brother does what he's told."

Scott stepped closer, his eyes fading back to brown. "I already told you I would," he stated urgently. "What do you want? Do you want me to go to Stilinski? Or talk to my father? He's an FBI agent."

"You think I want you talking to anyone with a badge?" Garrett replied. "I'm not getting help from a werewolf because I want him to '_talk_' to someone."

I could feel tears beginning to build behind my eyes and I looked at Scott with a desperate expression.

His gaze fell on the knife pressed against my neck before he returned his hardened eyes to Garrett. "Then what am I supposed to do?" Scott asked.

"They're transferring Violet to a federal facility," Garrett told him. "You're not going to let that happen." He tightened his grip on me and I whimpered in discomfort, squeezing my eyes shut. "Or I slice her throat open right here and neither of you see Liam again."

Scott glowered. "I'll do it," he said lowly. "I already told you I would."

"Good," Garrett said. "Because I stabbed your boy with a blade dipped in wolfsbane, and once it reaches the heart . . . bad things happen."

* * *

Hours later, long after the sun had disappeared beyond the forest and Beacon Hills was covered in a blanket of darkness, I found myself sitting in the backseat of Garrett's SUV with my hands duct-taped behind my back. We were parked on the side of the road, a few miles down from the police station. A dense fog had rolled in and moonlight was shining through the trees, illuminating the rain on the road. Garrett was settled in the driver's seat, watching in the rear-view mirror for a silhouette of Scott returning to the car.

"Your plan is ludicrous," I murmured, breaking the silence between us.

Garrett snorted in response. "I don't see you McCall's coming up with something better."

"We can talk to our father," I told him, reiterating Scott's earlier proposition. "Or the Sheriff—he'll understand. Nobody has to get hurt."

"How can you be a part of this world and still believe that?" he asked, turning to look at me with genuine curiosity in his eyes.

I hesitantly met his gaze. "Because Scott does," I replied. "This 'world' made him a predator—an animal whose nature is to kill, but he does the opposite. He doesn't use the supernatural abilities he's been given to hurt people, he uses them to save people."

Garrett was quiet for a moment, just looking at me with an unreadable expression, but before he could say anything, the passenger door was pulled open and Scott climbed in. Garrett faced forward once again and tossed a briefcase into Scott's lap.

I turned my eyes away, looking out the window, waiting for this nightmare to be over.

"This is _not_ going to work," Scott muttered dubiously.

"All you have to do is stop the car," Garrett told him. "I'll take care of the rest."

Headlights shine up the road and we glanced back to see a Beacon Hills County Police SUV speeding by. Garrett turned the keys in the ignition and started the car before pulling out, following behind at an inconspicuous distance.

"There's a stop sign half a mile ahead," Garrett informed.

"So, I take out the tires . . . with my claws?" Scott asked, his disbelief for the idea clear in his tone.

"Teeth, claws, heat vision—what_ever_. Just stop them," Garrett answered. "Get ready."

Garrett hit the accelerator and as the car broke through the fog, my brown eyes widened at the sight of the Sheriff's SUV turned over on the road, a silhouette of a body lying on the concrete.

"Garrett, stop!" I exclaimed, beginning to struggle out of the duct-tape restraints binding my wrists.

"Stop the car!" Scott shouted urgently.

Garrett slammed on the breaks and the car squealed to a halt. Scott threw off his seat belt before taking off toward the accident and I ripped out of the duct-tape shortly after, pushing my way out of the car after my brother.

"Dad!" Scott called out, and I saw Sheriff Stilinski pulling our father from the SUV, making me quicken my pace.

Scott was already kneeling beside the two by the time I reached the group. Coming to a stop behind Scott, I bit my lip anxiously, my stomach knotting up with unease as I looked down at our unconscious father and the visibly injured Sheriff.

"Scott," he whispered, wincing in pain.

The sound of a car door slamming shut startled me, and I glanced over my shoulder to see Garrett heading in our direction, his bladed lacrosse stick poised in a defensive position in front of him.

"She's not in the car—Violet's gone," Scott told him.

"Scott," Sheriff Stilinski said, his voice hoarse. "Scott, listen to me."

A cold gust of wind rushed by, whistling in the air and shaking the trees. I wrapped my arms around myself as my hair was blown over my shoulders and goosebumps rose on my skin.

"They're still here," the Sheriff whispered. "They're still _here_."

I drew my eyebrows together in confusion before a growl sounded from the line of trees along the road. I hesitantly turned in the direction of the chilling noise, only to meet a crescent-shaped claw striking the side of my face, sending my world spinning. I faintly heard Scott's voice yelling out to me before I became lost in the dark.

* * *

A dull, burning sensation centered on my cheek caused me to wrinkle my nose in discomfort. My head ached, and I groaned, pressing my hand to my forehead.

"I think she's waking up," I heard a familiar voice say, but in my current state, I wasn't able to place the voice with a person.

"Here—she'll need these for the pain."

I forced my eyes open, my lashes fluttering like a butterfly's wings as my bleary vision cleared and the room around me came into focus. The brick walls, x-ray machines, and various tables of medical tools told me I was in the animal clinic. I was in the lounge area, lying on the soft-cushioned couch.

I was surprised to see Brett directly in front of me, sitting on the wooden coffee table with his elbows resting on his knees. A glass of water was in one of his hands and two pills were in the other. He was shirtless, I might add, and I was having a hard time keeping my eyes away from the toned planes and ridges of his chest.

"The vet told me I should give these to you," he stated, watching me with attentive green eyes as I slowly sat up, running a hand through my chocolate-colored locks.

I noticed I was covered with a sweatshirt—I guessed as a make-shift blanket—and I turned the emerald green article of clothing over, reading the back. _Talbot_ was printed in white letters above the number twenty-eight. It was Brett's.

"Um, thanks," I murmured uncertainly as he handed the items to me.

I downed the pills and then sat the glass of water on the square table beside the couch. Brett was still looking at me, and feeling more than a little self-conscious under his gaze, I looked away, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear.

"I make you nervous," Brett commented suddenly, causing my eyes to snap back to him. His expression was solemn—no hints of teasing or amusement. "Your heart is beating like crazy."

I couldn't argue because he was right. With the height and the muscle tone and the ridiculously good looks and the added supernatural werewolf abilities, I found Brett's presence quite intimidating.

"You're staring at me," I told him in defense, reprimanding myself for how small my voice sounded.

"I like looking at you," he responded easily, and while he held my eyes, I felt my cheeks turn a noticeable shade of pink. "You're different than I thought you would be."

"I wish I could say the same."

"I'm not the bad guy in this situation, Joey," he reminded me.

"You're not the nice guy, either," I replied, before pushing up from the couch and heading over to the mini fridge on the other side of the room for a bottle of water. I was well aware of the glass sitting beside me, but I needed an excuse to put some distance between myself and Brett.

I closed the fridge door and turned around, nearly colliding with Brett's chest. I gasped in surprise, the water bottle slipping from my grasp and hitting the floor with a _thud_.

Brett cocked his head to the side as he looked down at me with a curious expression. My breath caught in my throat as he reached out to gently touch the bandage on my cheek. "You have a pretty deep gash," he told me quietly, skimming his fingers down the side of my face and under my jaw. "I don't think it will scar, though."

I shivered as he pulled his hand away, a blush rising on my cheeks. "Oh, um," I trailed off, not knowing what to say. I hated how easy I was to fluster within a few seconds.

"I'm sorry about what happened at the scrimmage with Liam," Brett said suddenly, surprising me. "I'm not proud of the way I acted toward him."

"If you want to make things right," I began, "you should apologize to him, not me."

"Noted." He nodded. "Look, I have to find the rest of my pack. I was only supposed to stay until you woke up. Scott left a few hours ago with some hunter and the vet's in the back room."

"That '_vet'_ has a name."

"And I'm sure it's a nice one, but I really need to get out of here."

He moved away from me, heading back over to the couch, where he grabbed his sweatshirt and pulled it on before running a hand through his disheveled hair. He then continued around the room over toward the door at the front of the clinic.

"Here." He paused to toss my iPhone onto the metal operating table between us. "It's been buzzing non-stop for the past half an hour. You should probably check it. I'll see you around, Joey."

"Yeah, I'll see you around," I responded quietly, watching as he disappeared around the corner. The bell jingled, telling me he was gone, and I reached over for my phone, my eyes widening as I looked at it.

I had eight messages from Scott and twelve missed calls. Unlocking my screen, I opened the most recent text from my brother sent ten minutes ago.

_Found Liam. On our way back to the animal clinic. _

Relief flooded through me and I pressed my palms flat on the table, leaning against it for some support because I was afraid I was going to collapse from the weight of everything that had happened over the last twenty-four hours.

"Joey, are you okay?" Deaton questioned in concern as he walked into the room, carrying a metal tray of something.

"I'm fine," I told him softly. "Scott found Liam. They should be here soon."

"I'll get the supplies ready," Deaton replied. "If he was poisoned with wolfsbane like Brett, he'll need it out of his system as soon as possible."

I nodded feebly. "Okay."

"Do you want to help? It might take your mind off things," Deaton offered.

Before I could reply, the jingling of a bell rang throughout the room, and without hesitation, I rushed out to the front of the animal clinic. I rounded the corner just as Liam walked through the door, Scott and Chris following close behind.

Liam met my eyes, and the expression of broken vulnerability on his face was all it took for me to push my way through the gate, throwing my arms around him. He immediately wrapped his arms around my waist in return and hugged me back tightly, nearly lifting my feet off the floor as he tucked his head into the curve of my neck.

Ignoring the coldness of his nose against my skin and the dampness of his clothes, I let him cling to me for as long as he needed, soaking up the comfort being in his arms provided. My body began to tremble and I hadn't even realized I was crying until I felt wetness on my cheeks.

I hid my face in Liam's chest as he gently ran a hand through my hair. "Hey, I'm okay, Joey," he whispered. "I promise."

I forced a choked laugh. "I'm supposed to be comforting you," I murmured. "Not the other way around."

I felt Liam's lips pull into a smile against my skin, and then his arms loosened around me, his body suddenly going limp.

"Liam?" I questioned frantically, struggling to support his weight.

He didn't respond, causing me to instinctively glance at my brother, my eyes wide with panic. Scott nodded reassuringly as he lifted one of Liam's arms around his shoulder, telling me without words everything was going to be okay. I willed myself to calm down as I supported Liam's other arm and we began to make our way back into the main room of the clinic. I stood back while Scott and Chris positioned Liam on the metal table.

Deaton was pulling on a pair of latex gloves by the sink, preparing himself for yet another incision. "Scott, would you mind turning the sign on the door to 'closed'?" he asked calmly, grabbing a scalpel. With a nod, my brother headed off and then Deaton glanced at me. "Joey, I need you to grab those scissors on the counter and cut this young man's shirt open."

"Um, o-okay," I stuttered, quickly retrieving the scissors as Deaton had instructed. I held Liam's shirt at the hem and began to cut up the center of the black material with trembling hands. His shirt fell open cut by cut, and aware of the eyes watching me, I tried not to admire the prominent V-line on Liam's hips or the light outline of abs on his stomach. I forced myself to concentrate, and when I was finished, I released a breath I didn't know I was holding as I stepped back from the table.

I discarded the remains of Liam's shirt in a nearby trashcan before moving to his side, resting my hands on his bicep as I watched Deaton cut into his chest, a yellow puff of smoke vaporizing into the air.

I cupped a side of Liam's jaw, gently running my thumb back and forth over his skin as I looked down at him in concern. "Is he going to be okay?" I asked quietly, my eyes flickering between Scott and Deaton, waiting for one of the two to give me answers.

"He should be." Deaton nodded. "Though I think he'll be out for a little while."

"How long?" Scott questioned before I could.

"Hard to tell," Deaton answered. "It could be anywhere from minutes to hours."

Scott shook his head. "I don't want to keep watching people die," he said, drawing the eyes and attention of everybody in the room toward him.

"I'm not sure you have much choice about that," Chris told him.

"Maybe I do," Scott muttered.

"That's a lot of burden to carry, Scott," Deaton warned him knowingly.

"I don't care. No one else dies," Scott decided valiantly, his eyes sweeping over everyone in the room. "Everyone on that list—everyone on that _deadpool_—it doesn't matter if they're wendigoes or werewolves or _whatever_ . . . I'm going to save everyone."

Scott's dark eyes flickered to meet mine and the amount of determination in his expression reassured me of his promise.

"And I'll help you," I said, resting a gentle hand on his arm and giving him a small, encouraging smile.

Scott smiled small in return before his eyes found the clock on the opposite wall. "It's pretty late, Jo," he said. "We should probably head home."

I shook my head in denial of the suggestion, grabbing Liam's hand in my own. "I want to stay with him."

"Fine," Scott conceded with a sigh. "But only because you won't have school tomorrow since they're administrating the PSAT's." He walked around the table and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, bringing me in for a side hug as he pressed his lips to my forehead. "Be safe, okay?"

I looked up at him, nodding. "I will, I promise."

"Come on, Scott." Chris patted him on the shoulder. "I'll give you a lift home." He nodded once at me. "Goodbye, Joey."

"Bye, Chris," I replied.

I sighed, watching as two of the most influential men in my life exited the animal clinic, leaving me alone with Liam and Deaton.

"I can find you a chair," Deaton spoke up. "But I can't promise it'll be very comfortable."

I gave him a grateful smile. "Any chair would be fine, Deaton."

He nodded and left the room, returning just a moment later with a metal folding chair. I thanked him before he disappeared into the back room once more. Unfolding the chair I was given, I took a seat and pulled myself closer to Liam's side.

The hours ticked by in the deafening silence and I changed positions multiple times throughout the night—I even did some pacing around the room to fight off the drowsiness I began to feel—as the time lapsed by and Liam remained unconscious. The clock on the wall was nearing three in the morning when he finally started to stir on the table, causing me to sit straight up. His blue eyes fluttered open and he looked around in slight confusion until his gaze fell on me.

"Hi," I whispered, my lips lifting into a tentative smile.

"Hey," Liam replied softly, a gentle grin touching his face as he pushed himself up to a sitting position.

"Are you okay?" I inquired hesitantly, standing up to be more level with his height.

"I feel fine," he told me, looking a little perplexed by the fact. I guessed he wasn't used to the quick efficiency of supernatural healing abilities yet. "What happened?"

"You, um, you fainted," I explained. "And then we had to make an incision in your chest to release the wolfsbane. You've been unconscious for the past couple of hours."

"Have you been here the entire time?" he asked incredulously.

I nodded, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear.

Liam stared at me for a moment, biting his lip slightly, before he slid off the table and gently pulled me into a hug. The unexpected action took me by surprise, but once I recovered, I wrapped my arms around his neck, hugging him back.

"Liam," I began softly, brushing a soothing hand up and down his back. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," he mumbled, burrowing his face into my neck like he had done earlier, his arms tightening around me more securely. "Just—give me a minute."

"Okay," I whispered.

While we stayed wrapped up in each other for the next couple of seconds, I tried to keep my heartbeat steady, but I found the task nearly impossible with the feeling of Liam's warm, bare chest pressed against me. His skin was soft beneath my touch, and as my hand continued to wander, I brushed my fingertips down Liam's spine. I felt him shiver at the sensation before he slowly pulled away from me, his blue eyes more vibrant than ever.

Liam looked over my face, his eyebrows furrowing. "What happened to your cheek?" he asked, brushing his thumb over the bandage covering the abrasion inflicted by the claw of one bat-shit-crazy Berserker.

I let out a long, tired sigh. "It's a long story, but I'll be alright."

"Okay, well, can you tell me what happened to my shirt?"

"I—um, I had to cut it off for Dr. Deaton to make the incision in your chest," I told him, suddenly unable to hold his eyes.

Liam's lips lifted into a smirk. "You took off my shirt?"

"I _removed_ your shirt for medical purposes," I mumbled in correction, a blush flaring across my cheeks. I ducked my head and stared down at the chestnut riding boots I was wearing, hoping my dark chocolate hair would cover the way I was flushing as red as an apple.

"Joey." Liam slipped his fingers underneath my chin and tilted my head up, so I was forced to look into his blue eyes. "Thank you."

My eyebrows furrowed in faint confusion. "For . . . taking your shirt off?"

Liam chuckled softly and shook his head a bit, his thumb pulling slightly at my bottom lip. "No, for being here with me—for all you've done to help me. I don't know what would have happened if you weren't there, so thank you for not giving up on me."

My lips parted as I found myself at a loss for words.

Liam's hand moved to cup my cheek and I couldn't help but acknowledge the warmth spreading through me as his eyes—as bright and blue as the Pacific Ocean—wandered over every inch of my face before falling on my mouth. My heart thrummed as Liam leaned in toward me, his arm slipping around my waist to pull me closer. I instinctively brought my hands up to his shoulders to steady myself, my eyes fluttering shut as I felt Liam's lips brush over my own ever so slightly.

Then the bell above the door jingled for the third time that night as someone burst into the room.

x

**A/N: **Hooray for long chapters! But really, this was ten pages in Microsoft and over four-thousand words, so I hoped you enjoyed it! I also hope you're excited that Liam has returned! You guys asked for fluff, so I gave you fluff. And a cliffhanger (sorry about that). Also, I apologize for being three days late on this chapter, but it's better than being three months late, in my opinion. Plus, this chapter was a bit difficult to write.

Anyway, what did you think of this chapter? I had lots of interactions going on, with Garrett and then Brett and then Liam. Who do you think walked in on Joey and Liam? And what did you think of that little almost kiss?

As always, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed last chapter and everyone who continues to read this story! I love reading your opinions and comments, they really motivate me to keep writing and I take into consideration the things you say. This story has reached 300 favorites and almost 40k reads, which is ridiculous! I just want to show my gratitude for all my lovely readers :)

So, drop a review, let me know what you think, and I'm aiming to have the next chapter up by Sunday, the night before season five premieres!


	11. I Promise

chapter eleven:  
_i promise_

* * *

"Oh, um, _wow_. Jesus, I—sorry," Stiles rambled incoherently as he shielded his eyes, clumsily spinning around on the heels of his Vans.

Both me and Liam's eyes widened simultaneously in alarm upon Stiles' unannounced entrance and we instantly scrambled away from each other, putting a modest distance between us. Liam tucked a hand into the pocket of his shorts and ran the other through his hair, trying to appear somewhat casual, while I cleared my throat awkwardly, brushing a lock of hair behind my ear.

"Stiles, um, w-what are you doing here?" I stammered, hesitantly glancing over at Liam. He met my eyes and gave me a smirk, causing me to immediately look down as my cheeks continued to burn with a renewed intensity.

Stiles remained facing away from us as he responded, stumbling over his words. "I, well, Scott called me—your _brother_, if you remember him, alpha werewolf—and asked me to come check on you before heading to your house, so yeah, here I am."

"Here you are," I repeated in a low murmur, wrapping my arms around myself as I shifted from side to side, visibly uncomfortable under the circumstances. I mentally prayed a supernatural sinkhole the size of a full moon would miraculously open up in the floor and swallow me, saving me from the unbearable amount of embarrassment I was feeling.

An awkward silence ensued and I nervously bit my lip as I fought to come up with something to say. I had absolutely no romantic experience whatsoever and had never found myself in a situation like this. It was a rare occasion where no one knew what strategically sentenced words would ease the tension in the air—even _Stiles_, the knowledgeable guy who never ran out of random subjects to talk on about, was rendered speechless.

Just as I was sure I was going to be crushed under the daunting weight of the strained silence, Deaton emerged from the silver double doors of the back, oblivious to what was happening between the three of us as he walked into the room.

"Hello, Liam," he greeted with a nod, heading over to the sink. "I'm glad to see you're awake. I don't believe we've had the chance to officially meet—I'm Dr. Deaton."

"Yeah, um, nice to meet you," Liam told the veterinarian, the nervous side of him I was so fond of surfacing in the elder's presence. "Thanks for helping me."

"No problem," Deaton replied with a hint of a smile, glancing over his shoulder at him. "You'll want to take it easy for a day or two. If you start experiencing headaches or inability to focus, you're welcome to come see me."

"I will," Liam assured.

The room fell into another silence and Deaton seemed to notice the discomfort emitting off us.

The doctor raised a pointed eyebrow as he turned around to assess our downcast eyes and awkward shuffling. "Did I interrupt something?"

"Actually—"

"No. Nope. Not a thing," I quickly interrupted Stiles, giving him a glance in warning. He narrowed his brown eyes in return, scowling vengefully at me. "We were just heading out."

Deaton's expression was skeptical as his eyes flicked between me and Stiles. "Okay," he replied with a slow nod, his tone not entirely believing, and I didn't blame him. I was a terrible liar—something I had inherited from Scott. "Well, have a safe drive home you three."

Stiles jingled his keys in reassurance. "We will," he promised with an obviously false grin, which dropped off his face the moment Deaton left the room. He divided a stern glance between me and Liam. "You two, in the jeep, one in front and one in back. Let's go—you first."

Stiles gestured at me and I huffed in mild annoyance as he ushered me in front of him, out of the animal clinic, with Liam trailing close behind.

* * *

Liam exited the passenger side of Stiles' blue jeep, his eyes flickering to me in a brief glance before he shut the door and began heading up the stone walkway to his house without a word spoken. I watched his retreating figure dejectedly from the backseat, my chocolate-brown eyes lingering on him until he disappeared through the front door of his home.

I bit my lip and looked down at the sleeves of my sweater as I tugged on the soft material worriedly. The ride from the clinic to Liam's house was stiffly tense and painfully awkward. Neither I nor Liam said anything for the entire duration of the drive, and every time we would so much as make eye contact through the rearview mirror, Stiles would reprimand Liam, ordering him to keep his eyes forward, causing soft color to rise on both of our faces.

I feared the platonic dynamic of me and Liam's relationship had changed after what had almost happened at Deaton's, and now as we hung out in limbo between being friends and maybe something more, everything between us was permanently screwed.

I was yanked from my thoughts as Stiles suddenly whipped around in his seat, startling me. "Josephine Olivia McCall," he began sternly, causing me to wince at the use of my full name. "Just what the _hell _do you think you were doing with that teenage lycanthrope?"

"_Stiles_." I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "Do we really have to talk about this?"

"Um, _yes_."

"Nothing happened."

"Something was going to happen."

I gave him a flat look. "Stiles."

"You're fifteen," he stated pointedly.

"I'm aware."

"You're too young to know what you're getting yourself into," Stiles continued, disregarding my comment. "And you're _definitely_ too young to be intimately involved with boys—_especially_ boys like Liam."

"Not true," I argued strongly, hoping the shadows in the car would hide the blush flaring furiously on my cheeks. "Derek was only fifteen when he fell in love with Paige."

"And look how that turned out," Stiles replied sarcastically. "She died—literally _in his arms_. Oh, and don't forget the part where the traumatic event basically scarred him for life."

Okay, so maybe I couldn't exactly argue with that.

Stiles clapped his hands together once with a smirk of triumph. "Great. Case closed." He faced forward, preparing to twist the keys in the ignition and start the car when I was suddenly struck with a panic-worthy thought.

"Are you going to tell Scott?" I questioned hesitantly, biting the inside of my cheek as I waited for his response.

Stiles swiftly turned back around as a corner of his eye twitched with disbelief for my question. "Am I going to tell—_of course I'm going to tell Scott_!" he bellowed, his arms flailing all over the place. "His little pup was trying to shove his werewolf tongue down his baby sister's throat!"

"Stiles!" I exclaimed reproachfully, thoroughly embarrassed. "That was _not_—"

"I just—_wow_. I-I can't even look at you right now," he interrupted as he turned around once more, making me roll my eyes at his dramatics. "I don't even know who you are. I honestly don't." He started up the jeep, swiftly pulling away from the curb. "What's next after making out with a werewolf, huh? Marrying a kanima and starting a family of freaky lizard hybrid children?"

"_Stiles_!"

* * *

I sat tiredly at the end of Scott's bed, my chin perched in the palm of my hand as I struggled to keep my eyes open. Scott had placed himself on the floor—the red duffle bag of money resting in front of him—at the foot of the bed, both of us staring up at our lanky friend as he paced back and forth, practically blazing a path of fire into Scott's carpet.

"Okay, so, I vote against all and any contact," Stiles stated, referring to the situation between me and Liam.

As soon as we had arrived at my house, Stiles had rushed up the stairs and barged into my brother's room, explaining in dramatic detail and spastic arm movements what had almost—_almost, _I might emphasize—transpired between Liam and I back at the animal clinic.

I had huffed in annoyance and made sounds of protest throughout the entire ordeal, but ultimately gave up trying to plead my side of the story when I realized the strength of Stiles' rambling tirade was far more overpowering than my weak, stammered objections.

"What my sister does with Liam is none of my business, Stiles," Scott told him, dumping the money out onto the floor in front of him.

Stiles stopped in his tracks at his words while my eyes snapped to my brother in surprise.

"Since when?" I asked.

"Yeah, since when?" Stiles demanded, looking more baffled than ever.

Scott glanced from his best friend to me, his expression soft and genuine. "Since you spent the past three hours at the animal clinic waiting for him to wake up. Since I saw the way he hugged you like he needed his arms around you just to breathe," he explained to me in a gentle, understanding voice. "He cares about you, and before you try to deny it, I know you feel the same about him. Despite what I said before, I think you're good for him, Jo—and I think he's good for you, too."

Stiles' mouth fell open in disbelief of what he was hearing. "Scott—,"

"Stiles, shut up, sit down, and help me count this money," Scott ordered, giving his best friend a pointed look. "And Joey, you go get some sleep. It's like, four in the morning."

Stiles reluctantly clamped his mouth closed and his eye started doing that twitchy thing again as he grudgingly threw himself down onto the ground opposite Scott. I, on the other hand, smiled happily and pushed myself off my brother's bed, stalking across the hall to my own room.

* * *

I laid in my bed the next morning, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

My thoughts were in a whirlwind and my emotions were a chaotic mess. I had tossed and turned all night, fleeting images of Liam flashing through my mind, depriving me of a peaceful slumber. My feelings were more than a little conflicted at the moment and he was the cause of the storm brewing in my heart.

I should have been worrying about other things—like Lydia cracking the last part of the deadpool and the fact that everyone I cared about was listed on it; including Malia, whose surname was printed as Hale instead of Tate, meaning she was bound to find out about Peter. I should have been worrying about my father and the Sheriff, who had spent the night in the hospital after being attacked by Berserkers. I should have been_ traumatized_ knowing two of my classmates were murdering assassins who ended up being murdered themselves.

However, the only thing I could seem to think about was Liam freaking Dunbar.

He had sent my nerves into a frenzy the previous night by trying to kiss me. I would admit, in the moment, I wanted to kiss him—like, I _really_ wanted to kiss him. I had been ready to give myself to the guy I liked, but now I was frightened and felt like I was experiencing an existential crisis.

I remembered what Malia had told me the night of the scrimmage against Devenford and I was finally realizing what she had meant. I was just beginning to piece together how strongly Liam felt about me, and knowing he wanted more than friendship was stirring up my insecurities—my deepest fears, turning me into an anxious mess.

I needed to talk to someone who knew me better than I knew myself—I needed my best friend.

I needed Allison Argent.

"Joey, sweetheart, I'm heading to the hospital now." I heard Mom's voice call from the other side of my bedroom door. "Are you up?"

"I'm up," I responded with a sigh, untangling myself from the warmth of my blankets and pushing out of bed. I lingered in the doorway of my room for a moment, my eyes falling on the first drawer of my nightstand as I contemplated opening up the memories stored inside. Tearing my eyes away, I quickly decided I wasn't ready to rip open that wound.

Running a hand through my chocolate hair in hopes of taming my loose curls, I wandered downstairs and into the kitchen, where I found Scott eating a bowl of cereal while attempting to text one-handed.

I glanced at the clock on the wall as I grabbed a clean coffee cup from the dishwasher. "Aren't you going to be late?" I questioned him with furrowed eyebrows.

Scott looked confused for a second before he took notice of the time. "Crap," he muttered, shoving one last bite of cereal in his mouth. He then dropped his spoon into the bowl and tucked his phone into his back pocket as he scrambled off the stool he was sitting on, grabbing his backpack on his way toward the front door. "Love you!" he called out before the door slammed shut.

"Love you too," I murmured in amusement, knowing he would hear me.

Finally alone in the peaceful quiet of my house, my muscles relaxed without the added pressure of trying to make normal conversation with any member of my family while my emotions were so scattered and unpredictable.

After having breakfast, I headed back upstairs to shower and get dressed for the day. Considering the temperatures were warming up in Beacon Hills, I chose to slip on a cream-colored dress and a pair of ballet flats before venturing into the living room. Wanting to ignore my responsibilities, such as my various subjects of homework and other obligations, I turned on the flat screen and put _The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air_ on. I had just placed myself on the couch when the doorbell rang, forcing me to my feet again.

I pulled open the front door, my eyes widening as I came face-to-face with the source of my frustratingly frenzied feelings.

"Liam," I breathed in surprise, my grip on the door tightening for support because I felt my knees might buckle at just the sight of him standing on my doorstep with his hands tucked into the pockets of his light jeans.

"Hey," he said softly, a hint of a smile quirking the corners of his mouth.

"Hi," I whispered in response, still slightly bewildered by his sudden appearance. "Um, w-what are you doing here?"

"Well, I wanted to talk to you," he told me simply, rocking on his heels. "And since you haven't been answering my texts or taking my calls"—I glanced away guiltily—"I figured showing up at your house was the next best method of getting your attention."

I sighed, an action heavy with stress and defeat as I opened the door more for Liam to step inside. "Liam, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shut you out," I confessed, turning to face him in the foyer once I closed the front door. "What—um, what did you want to talk about?"

Liam didn't respond right away as he looked down at the Nike sneakers he was wearing, biting his lip in contemplation of something. In the silence between us, I could hear the audience from the TV laughing in the living room at something Will had said to Carlton.

After a moment, Liam's crystal blue eyes, glistening with innocence, flickered up to lock with mine. "Do you like me?" he asked, his expression soft but uncertain.

I gaped at him, my mouth nearly falling open. "I—what?" I stammered, taken aback by the bluntness of his question.

Liam exhaled in frustration and ran a hand through his hair before he stepped closer to me, hastily closing the gap between us. "Do you like me, Joey?" he murmured, bringing a hand up to my cheek, where my cut from the Berserker was slowly healing. "I know you do. I can hear your heartbeat."

_Stupid effing werewolf abilities . . . _

I closed my eyes and shook my head, moving backward to reinstate the distance between us, only for my back to hit the front door. I felt Liam's thumb caress my skin, a little too close to my mouth, as his warm breath fanned over my lips.

"Liam," I mumbled in a warning tone, uneasily turning away from his touch. "Don't."

"Why not?" Liam asked in a soft voice, tilting my chin up so I would look at him. I shook my head once more, glancing away from him. "Hey, Joey, talk to me. What's scaring you all of a sudden?"

I took a deep breath, preparing myself to release all the tension building up inside me with words I'd never said to anyone, not even Scott or Lydia. "People who are a part of this world don't get happy endings, Liam," I told him in a whisper, my eyes trained on the hardwood floors beneath our feet. "There was a girl—her name was Allison." I couldn't stop the way my voice cracked over my best friend's name. This was the first time I'd spoken it out loud since her death. Tears began to build in my eyes as I continued. "Scott loved her—she was his first love, actually. He gave her his heart and loved her with _everything_ he had, but in the end, it wasn't enough to save her."

Liam's eyebrows furrowed faintly, his thumb running over my cheek in a soothing gesture. "What happened to her?"

"She was killed . . . by supernatural demons." A short, bitter laugh escaped my lips at the absurdity of it all before my lips turned down into a frown again. "Scott held her in his arms and watched her die." My glistening eyes finally rose from the floor to meet Liam's, a tear rolling down my cheek. "I don't want that to happen to us, Liam. I don't want to watch you die in my arms."

"Joey," Liam spoke, his voice more gentle and soft than I'd ever heard it. "That will _never_ happen, do you understand me? I'm not going anywhere. I'll always be here to protect you—I promise."

And then, before I had another chance to refuse him, Liam leaned in and pressed his lips against mine.

I panicked momentarily as I didn't know what to do, but Liam moved his soft lips slowly and sensually, allowing me to collect my bearings enough to reciprocate. Hesitantly sliding my arms around his neck, I carefully parted my lips before pressing back against his with a bit of pressure. Liam growled against my mouth in response, his hands grasping my hips and pulling me against him. His lips slid off mine for a second, only to press back hungrily as the kiss heated and I felt butterflies blossom in my stomach.

Liam's hands were everywhere at once, wandering over my curves and exposed skin, eliciting a series of shivers from me. I pushed my trembling hands into Liam's soft hair, the strands feelings like pure silk as they slipped between my fingers. Feeling a bit more confident, I tugged lightly, causing a noise of appreciation to hum in Liam's throat as our lips continued to collide together feverishly.

My lungs began to burn with the need for oxygen and I took a moment to catch my breath as Liam broke the kiss, his lips wandering to my neck. His teeth tugged gently at my collarbone and I gasped lightly at the sensation, my grip on his shoulders tightening.

"Wow," I whispered to myself, my eyes drifting shut of their own accord.

My phone shattered the moment, startling me as "Fancy" by Iggy Azalea began to blare throughout the house.

Liam's lips brushed up to my ear. "Ignore it," he mumbled.

I shivered, but pressed my hands against his chest and shook my head. "Liam," I murmured in protest, gently pushing him away. "I can't. It's Lydia's ringtone—something might be wrong."

Liam withdrew from me, placing a soft kiss to my lips before he released me. A blush burned onto my cheeks as I stepped around him and went into the living room, picking my ringing phone up off the coffee table. I hit the answer button and pushed a lock of hair away from my face as I put the device to my ear.

"Lydia?" I questioned into the phone.

"_Joey_!" The strawberry-blonde's frantic voice came through the speaker. "_Where are you? Are you at home_?"

My stomach knotted with unease as I turned to face Liam, who had followed me into the room and was watching me with a concerned expression, obviously hearing the panic in Lydia's voice with his werewolf senses.

"Yeah, Lydia, I'm at home," I told her as I looked back at Liam with worried eyes. "Why, what's wrong?"

"_I'm coming to get you_. _The school—there's a problem at the school_," Lydia stammered. "_The Center for Disease Control has it quarantined with Scott and Stiles still inside. It's a virus, Joey_."

I furrowed my brows in faint confusion. "What kind of virus, Lydia?" I asked slowly.

"_A virus designed to kill werewolves_."

x

**A/N:** SURPRISE—bet you weren't expecting this! I don't know what's going on, but I've just felt so in sync with this story lately that I'm just whipping out chapters left and right. I'm freaking two days early and I never expected to finish this chapter so soon.

Liam and Joey finally kissed, guys! After telling you since like, chapter three they would kiss soon, they finally have! I hope it was as good as you guys have been anticipating. And don't worry, there will be lots more Jiam kissing scenes. Speaking of, I must warn you, some of the scenes may get a little . . . heated, but nothing like pure smutty sex because—just, no.

As always, I'd like to thank everyone who continues to review, favorite, and follow. The more reviews I receive, the better I am motivated to update sooner, which for the next chapter, will hopefully be Sunday. Truthfully, this chapter was a bit emotional for me to write towards the end there. Just to give you an idea of how emotionally invested I am in Teen Wolf, I will admit that my eyes starting watering when I was writing about Allison in this chapter. Though I support Scott's new relationship with Kira (because it's Scott and Kira, come on), I'm not over Allison's death.

Now, on a completely different note, did you guys freaking see Dylan Sprayberry's part in the opening credits for season five? I freaking love it. I'm so excited for season five! :)


	12. A Good Different

chapter twelve:  
_a good different_

* * *

The sky above Beacon Hills had darkened to an ominous black by the time Lydia's midnight blue Toyota Corolla squealed to a halt in front of the bustling high school.

My eyes widened as I took in the massive crowds of law enforcement, medical professionals, and curious civilians swarmed around the school from the backseat of Lydia's car. There were adults flowing in and out, dressed from head-to-toe in a protective yellow gear as police vehicles and ambulances flashed in the background while the Sheriff's deputies struggled to maintain order within the crowds of people.

"God, we're never going to get through this crowd," Lydia muttered as she turned off the car, her green eyes searching for a possible gap in the masses of bodies.

I felt my stomach knot with a familiar sense of on setting panic as I mentally agreed with Lydia. The scene in front of me was pure chaos and my pulse started to quicken in fear as I thought about my friends trapped inside.

I was human; _just _human. I wasn't like the others_—_who each seemed to possess a unique quality that equipped them to face the supernatural challenges thrown their way with unmatchable amounts of courage and bravery. That just wasn't me. I didn't have any special abilities. I wasn't the one who always figured it out like Stiles. I couldn't predict death like Lydia or manipulate electricity like Kira or throw out a set of claws any time I wanted. I was just the baby sister of an alpha werewolf, tossed into this world without warning, and in moments like this, I felt utterly useless.

How could I possibly help Scott and my best friends when I couldn't even help myself?

I was pulled back into reality when Liam grabbed my hand, his blue eyes full of concern as he gazed at me.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked softly. "Your heart is beating scarily fast."

"Scott and Stiles and the others," I whispered, shaking my head shamefully as worry and doubt began to cloud my thoughts. "I-I can't . . . I don't . . . there's nothing I can do to help them. I'm_—_"

"Don't you _dare_ say you're useless," Lydia said firmly, spinning in her seat to face me with a stern expression. "Being human does not make you weak, Joey. You've went through just as much as we have; endured and suffered just as much." The strawberry-blonde's features softened as she continued. "Allison always said you had hidden strength_—_you're stronger than you think."

My lips curved at the corners in fondness as I remembered Allison once telling me those exact words.

"I believe it," Liam whispered, surprising me. He thought I was strong? His grip on my hand tightened as he gave me a small smile of reassurance. "In fact, I've witnessed it firsthand. Every time you've helped me since we've met was an act of bravery, Joey."

Words couldn't describe the amount of sudden gratefulness I felt for Liam's presence in my life (no matter how unexpected it was or how unconventionally he came to be in my life) and suddenly, all I wanted to do was kiss him again.

"Come on, lovebirds." Lydia shoved open her door with fresh determination. "Let's go save our best friends."

With me and Liam in tow, Lydia marched into the crowd, pushing her way through to the front. From there, I could see my father and Sheriff Stilinski talking just outside the doors of the closed-off school. Lydia spotted them too, and when she attempted to take a step in their direction, a deputy abruptly blocked her path. I tried to explain what we were trying to do, but another officer grabbed me by the wrist, stopping me as well.

"Dad!" I called, trying to pull my arm from the deputy's grip.

"Hey!" My dad shouted upon noticing me at the front of the crowd. "That's my daughter you're manhandling, officer!"

"Let those kids through!" Sheriff Stilinski ordered.

Both of the deputies backed off and Lydia rolled her eyes at them in annoyance before heading over to where the Sheriff was standing with my father. Releasing Liam's hand, I rubbed gently at my sore wrist and kept my eyes down as I pushed past the officer who had obstructed me. Liam followed behind and bared his teeth at the deputy in a snarl, causing him to jump back in fright. I gaped at him and he gave me a wry smirk in return as took my hand before we continued over to where Lydia was talking to Sheriff Stilinski.

"My mom's in there," Lydia was saying. "What's happening?"

I didn't hear Sheriff Stilinski's reply as my dad pulled me off to the side, away from Liam, who watched on from a distance and was most likely going to listen in on our conversation_—_not that I minded, it was nice knowing he was there.

"What are you doing here, Josephine?" Dad questioned me in a low voice. "It's not safe."

"Scott's in trouble, Dad," I whispered.

He raised an eyebrow and placed his hands on his hips. "What do you mean?"

I sighed in frustration, pinching the bridge of my nose as I attempted to collect my buzzing thoughts. I'd forgotten how difficult it was trying to explain situations like this to someone who knew nothing of the supernatural world.

"Just_—_" I managed to say before my phone started ringing, cutting me off. Sheriff Stilinski called my dad back over and I took the opportunity to search through my purse for the device, quickly answering the call once I saw my mother's name flashing across the screen. "Hello?"

"_Sweetheart, thank God you picked up_," Mom breathed. "_Are you at the school_?"

"Yeah, I'm right outside the front doors with Dad and the Sheriff," I told her, shooting a quick glance to where they were standing a few feet away. "Liam and Lydia are here, too."

I heard my mom murmur something in the background before she spoke again. "_Okay, I'm putting you on speaker_."

"_There's an antidote, Joey_," Derek's voice instantly crackled through the phone. "_A rare form of wild mushrooms_."

"Mushrooms?" I repeated with furrowed brows, uncertain I heard him correctly.

"_The mushrooms are called reishi_," Deaton explained. "_Scott and the others won't survive without it_."

"Well, where do I get it from?" I questioned immediately, determined to do anything possible to save my brother and our friends.

"_My family's vault_," Derek answered. "_It's in a jar on one of the shelves_."

I closed my eyes with sigh of frustration, running a hand through my hair. "The school is quarantined," I reminded. "I can't get in."

"_Tell your father_," Mom said suddenly, her voice filled with urgency. "_They'll let him inside. Tell him whatever you have to, but make sure he gets in there to Scott_ _and the others_."

Without hesitation, I disconnected the call and hurried over to where my father was still consulting with the Sheriff. I registered Liam and Lydia's questioning eyes on me, but I ignored their stares for the moment as I began explaining to Dad in rushed detail about the antidote being in the Hale vault.

"It's called reishi," I continued. "They're mushrooms in a jar on one of the shelves."

My dad's expression conveyed deep confusion. "Joey, what are you_—__"_

"Just _trust_ me!" I exclaimed with desperate eyes. "Get inside and tell Scott. Tell him _now_, Dad."

He stared at me in a moment of uncertainty before finally nodding and turning to suit up. He pulled the protective yellow gear over his head and glanced back at me once more before heading inside the school building.

Liam came up beside me and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pressing his lips to my temple in an attempt to comfort me. Wound too tight with worry to even blush, I exhaled deeply and shut my eyes, trying to ease the tension from my body as I leaned into Liam's chest, waiting outside with the Sheriff and Lydia. The minutes were seemingly endless as time ticked on throughout the night and the crescent moon rose higher in the sky.

Temperatures dropped rapidly, and as I began to shiver uncontrollably, I mentally reprimanded myself for wearing a flimsy dress.

Liam suddenly moved away from me, causing me to glance at him questioningly, but I realized what he was doing when he started unzipping his navy blue hoodie. "Liam_—_" I began to protest, only to cut myself off when he placed it over my shoulders. "What about you? You're in just a t-shirt now."

"I'll be fine," he assured as he pulled me close again, this time by the waist. "Another little perk of being a werewolf."

I opened my mouth to reply, but sharply closed it again when the school's doors opened and masses of students began filing outside.

"Excuse me," the Sheriff said repeatedly as he pushed his way through the crowd with me, Liam, and Lydia right behind him.

"Mom!" Lydia called, and I watched, a relieved sigh passing through my lips as the strawberry-blonde took off down the stretch of corridor to hug Mrs. Martin.

I then bit my lip and allowed my eyes to wander over the faces of the people lingering in the hallway as I began to search for my friends through the remaining CDC workers and recovering teenagers milling about. I sighed in relief once I spotted Malia's tall stature and told Liam I would be right back as I gently withdrew my hand from his before heading toward the were-coyote.

"Malia, are you okay?" I questioned right away, noticing her disheveled appearance and the absent look in her hazel eyes.

She didn't utter a word or even spare me a glance as she brushed past me.

Something definitely wasn't right.

"Malia, wait," I said as I took a step after her.

"Joey!"

I turned around at the sound of my name being called, only to find myself being tackled into a hug by two teenage boys. I laughed as I stumbled slightly off balance, wrapping an arm around both Scott and Stiles as I returned their group hug with just as much emotion.

"I was so worried about you guys," I whispered into Scott's chest, taking in his familiar scent as I felt the pressure of tears begin to build behind my eyes.

"We're okay, Jo," Stiles said softly, brushing some hair behind my ear in a comforting gesture while Scott nodded in agreement, a small smile spreading across his face.

I glanced from him to Stiles, my eyes widening as they fell on the red stain smeared across the white t-shirt he was wearing under his hoodie.

"Oh, m-my God," I stuttered, my voice just above a whisper. "Stiles, is that . . .,"

"Don't worry, it's not mine," he told me. "Your dad jumped in before it could _be_ mine_—_it was sort of awesome, but also mildly scarring."

I took in his words, the gears in my mind turning. "The virus breaking out during the test wasn't a coincidence, was it?" I asked wearily, my eyes flickering between Scott and Stiles, who exchanged a glance before saying anything.

"No." Stiles shook his head.

"It was the teacher proctoring the test," Scott explained further. "He was the assassin."

Blinking in disbelief, I shook my head.

We weren't safe anywhere.

"Did something happen to Malia? I mean_—_was she hurt?" I then questioned in concern.

Scott and Stiles shared another weary look.

"Why?" Stiles asked as he played with his hands in a nervous manner, his brown eyes not quite being able to meet mine. "Did you talk to her?"

My lips turned down into a frown. "I tried to when she came out, but she completely ignored me."

"She, um_—_well, she sort of found about Peter being her biological father," Scott stated as he scratched behind his neck uncomfortably.

My eyes widened once again as I glanced to Stiles for confirmation, who only averted his gaze to the linoleum floor below him. I felt my shoulders deflate dejectedly. Though I hadn't known her long, I knew Malia considered me one of her closest friends. I didn't know why, but we had instantly clicked when we met. Malia was everything I wasn't_—_brave, opinionated, confident, and the list of kickass character traits went on, which was why she and I were such good friends. We were opposites; we balanced each other out.

_You've always been honest with me. _

My eyes fell shut in regret as Malia's words echoed in my thoughts. I betrayed my friend. I hadn't lied directly as Malia had never asked about Peter, but I never said a word to her about him being her real father, even though I knew it wasn't my place to keep the truth from her.

"She's never going to forgive me," I muttered with a doubtful shake of my head.

"She will, Joey," Scott assured, wrapping a consoling arm around my shoulder.

"I'm the one she's really mad at anyway," Stiles added. "_I'm _the one who asked you not to tell her."

"Come on," Scott said after a moment of silence. "We should probably start heading home."

"I'll drive you, Jo," Stiles offered, throwing his arm around me as well as we started walking.

"Um, do you think you could drive Liam home, too?" I asked sheepishly, peeking up at him.

Stiles stopped in his tracks, forcing me and Scott to come to a halt as well. "What_—_Liam? He's here?"

I bit the inside of my cheek in reluctance to respond. "Yeah," I mumbled. "We were sort of together at the house when Lydia came to pick me up."

Stiles' eyebrows nearly raised into his hairline as his eyes flickered to Scott and they exchanged yet another look, having one of their famous telepathic conversations.

"And, um, what exactly were you doing with Liam?" Scott asked, eyebrow lifting in inquiry as he looked down at me with pure amusement. "At our house_—__alone_?"

Without meaning to, I glanced down the hallway to where Liam was standing patiently by the set of double doors, watching people go in and out of the school. My mind immediately replayed our kiss, causing me to look down as my cheeks flushed with color.

"I hope you used protection," Stiles muttered jokingly.

"Stiles!"

* * *

The next day, I barricaded myself in my bedroom for the entirety of the morning. I had attempted to do whatever I could to distract my mind from the lunacy taking place downstairs. I had tried reading, listening to music, doing homework, watching Netflix on my laptop_—_and as a last resort_—_cleaning my room, but none of those frivolous tasks could keep my thoughts from spinning themselves into a worried web about the plan my friends had come up with to catch the Benefactor.

In consequence, as they continued to plot in the kitchen, I sat on my bed, gazing down at a Polaroid photo resting in front of me. I remembered the night the picture was taken_—_like it had just happened yesterday. In the picture, Stiles, Lydia, Scott, Allison, and myself were at the ice rink, sitting on the bleachers, acting like normal teenagers whose world wasn't plagued by the supernatural. A beaming Stiles had his arm around Lydia, whose glossed lips were pulled into a grin. Lydia had her arm around me, and I was leaning against Scott, giving him bunny ears. On the other side of Scott was Allison, who had a bright smile on her face while he kissed her cheek.

I stared down at the picture, wondering how our lives had managed to change so rapidly in the space of a year, until a knock sounded at my bedroom door, interrupting my thoughts.

I sighed. "Come in, Scott," I said, already knowing it was him, coming to try and convince me for the umpteenth time that morning to join in on their plan.

"Jo," he began with a slight groan. "Will you please just come downstairs?"

I shook my head adamantly. "I don't support what you're doing," I told him. "I'm sorry, but I just can't be a part of it."

Scott looked down for a moment, but instead of commenting on my words, he walked over to my bed and sat down next to me. His eyes fell on the photo resting on my cream comforter and an unreadable expression crossed his face as he carefully picked it up.

A small smile nudged at a corner of his mouth. "This is one of my favorite pictures."

I watched as he ran his thumb over Allison's face, his smile faltering. "I know," I responded quietly, admiring the picture as well. "Mine too."

We sat in silence for a moment before I felt the need to say something. "I like Liam," I stated. "I like him a lot." Scott took his eyes away from the photo, giving me his full brotherly attention as he gazed at me with a solemn expression. "I told him about Allison," I whispered then, watching Scott's face carefully for any signs of disapproval. "And . . . I don't really know why I'm telling you this."

"I do," Scott replied in a quiet voice. "You're different with him, Joey_—_a good different_. _After she . . .," he trailed off, but I knew he was referring to Allison's death. ". . . you wouldn't talk to anyone or eat anything. You would wake up in the middle of the night screaming and crying and I would have to hold you until you fell back asleep, only for the same thing to happen an hour later. What was happening to you terrified me. I didn't know how to help.

Even after you started to get better_—_talking and eating and sleeping through the night_—_I could still see you weren't yourself. You were more like a shell of your former self. You just weren't as happy. You weren't as outgoing or ready to face things head-on like you once were. But . . . since Liam . . . I've slowly started to notice you turning back into the girl you used to be. It's like he lit a candle in that darkened part of you."

I didn't know what to say, so I blinked away the tears threatening to fall and leaned over to wrap my arms around my brother. I'd known the weeks following Allison's death had taken a toll on me, but I hadn't realized just how much it had taken.

"I love you, Scott," I murmured.

"I love you too, sis," he responded as he hugged me back.

Then the doorbell sounded downstairs, breaking us apart.

"I'll let you answer it," Scott told me, a little, knowing smile on his face as he stood up.

I watched him with furrowed eyebrows as he exited my room, but I ended up just shaking my head at his bizarre-but-actually-sort-of-normal-Scott-like-behavior and headed down the steps to open the door.

My lips parted in surprise and I felt my heartbeat quicken automatically as I met a familiar pair of crystal blue eyes.

Liam simply stared at me in silence for a handful of moments while I stared back as we both contemplated what to say to each other.

"Hi," I said lowly, deciding to speak first.

"Hey," Liam responded softly. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and I found myself barely being able to concentrate on anything he was saying as I watched his lips, a sense of déjà vu sweeping over me as I remembered the previous day when we kissed. "Joey?"

My eyes snapped up to meet his as I was startled back into the present. "Yes?"

Liam smirked gently, the edges of his lips twitching in amusement. "I said, do you mind if I come in? Scott texted me a little while ago."

_What was with him and the texting? _

I felt myself sober up. "He told you about their plan," I concluded, opening the door wider so he could step inside.

"Yeah, sort of," Liam said slowly as he turned to face me with slightly furrowed brows.

"Um, everyone's out in the kitchen," I informed him before beginning to head in that direction, assuming he was following behind me. When Liam stayed in place, I slowly spun on the heels of my ankle boots to look him up and down in concern, searching for something that wasn't right, but I found nothing out of the ordinary. "What's wrong?"

"I just, um, well"_—_his blue eyes darted around me to look at the others before he grabbed my hand, leading me out of their view_—_"I wanted to talk for a second." I nodded a bit uncertainly, absentmindedly backing up against the front door as Liam stepped within inches of me. "About what happened yesterday," he clarified. His gaze wandered around for a moment before returning to my eyes. "About what happened right here, actually."

I blushed and self-consciously tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. "Um, yeah_—_okay," I said, playing nervously with the sleeves of my cream sweater. "I mean, I sort of figured this conversation was inevitable, but frankly, I didn't count on it being today of all days when my brother, who is also your alpha, is about to hatch a lunatic plan in order to catch some unknown person who sent out a hit list of supernatural creatures in Beacon Hills and is subsequently paying random people to assassinate said supernatural creatures_—__"_

"Joey."

"_—_and that should be my main priority of worry, right? Innocent people being slaughtered for a quick buck? My friends and my family? Well, guess what, it isn't. You are. Just you. Purely you. All the freaking time_—__"_

"_Joey_."

"_—_you have absolutely infiltrated every part of my life and every single one of my thoughts and I spend a good majority of my time pondering just what the hell we are and how on _earth_ we're going to make this work between us and I_—_"

My hyperactive ramblings were effectively cut off by Liam pushing his lips onto mine. I felt my breath catch out of surprise, my heartbeat accelerating in an incredible way, before I relaxed into him and allowed my eyes to drift shut. The kiss felt just as heavenly as before and my mind fell into a blissful haze as he slowly pulled away from me.

With his hands still cupping my face, Liam gave me an overwhelmingly attractive lopsided grin. "Have I ever told you you're cute when you're nervous?"

_A small laugh left Liam's throat. "You're cute." _

I bit my lip, fighting off a smile as I recalled the moment I was waiting with him in the hospital. "Yes, actually, you have."

"Good_—_because you are. God, you are," he whispered. "And I like you, Joey. I like you a lot and you like me too, right?"

I nodded wordlessly.

"Then we don't have to worry about anything else," Liam told me softly. "We don't have to figure it all out right now, okay?"

Once again, I nodded, as I was suddenly unable to find my voice.

A small smile curved at Liam's lips before his hands fell away from my face and he headed into the kitchen. I took a moment to collect myself, straightening out my clothes and running a hand through my chocolate locks before I followed behind him, my lips still tingling with the feeling of his kiss.

I felt the all-encompassing tension in the room as I walked in and took my place around the square-shaped table. Rubbing my arm in a rather awkward manner, I unconsciously drifted closer to Liam's side as Stiles cleared his throat and dove into a final explanation of the plan. Scott met my eyes across the table, and by the little smile he gave me, I assumed he must have listened in on me and Liam. Despite the pink tint surfacing on my cheeks, I rolled my brown eyes good-naturedly at my brother and mouthed '_pay attention'_ with a nod in Stiles' direction.

Scott shook his head in amusement, but returned his eyes to his best friend.

"Is three enough?" Kira questioned suddenly, glancing around at the three laptops on the table.

"Depends on how many cameras they have, but I think so," Stiles answered with a nod.

"Are we really doing this?" Liam asked hesitantly, an uneasy expression spreading across his face.

"We're doing it," Scott responded firmly. "Tonight."

"I still don't support this ludicrous idea," I commented as I glanced over at Scott. "You literally escaped death by mere _seconds _yesterday . . . and now you want to do _this_? It just doesn't feel right to me."

"She's right," Liam spoke up, causing me to look up at him as he shifted nervously on his feet, his arm brushing against mine. His crystal blue eyes flickered between me and Scott. "Isn't this kind of dangerous?"

"Yes," Stiles replied right away. "It's incredibly dangerous and borderline idiotic."

"Have you guys done something like this before?" he questioned next as his gaze fell back on me.

"Something dangerous or something idiotic?" I asked, my voice just above a whisper as I stared back at him. "Because the answer would be a yes to both of those."

Liam looked down with a slight frown on his face, his eyebrows pulling together in a pensive expression.

"You don't have to be a part of this if you don't want to," Scott told him.

Liam's eyes flickered to me once more before settling on Scott. "I'm not scared," he declared and I felt a small smile tug at my lips.

"Well, then you're borderline idiotic," Stiles quipped as he dropped a hand down onto Liam's shoulder, shooting him a wink and a small smile. I felt my heart warm as Liam returned the gesture. I was relieved he and Stiles were finally starting to show signs of getting along. Stiles then turned to my brother as he continued. "If we do this," he began carefully. "We don't know what's coming for us_—_you know that, right?"

"How do we even know something's definitely coming?" Kira asked.

"Because the tape from Garrett's bag said visual confirmation required," Scott explained.

"The teacher proctoring the PSATs said the same thing," Stiles added. "He couldn't get paid by the Benefactor until he had proof that you guys were dead."

"So, the idea is, what if you kill someone on the deadpool, but you can't send the proof?" Scott finished.

"You don't get paid," I murmured.

"How does that get us any closer to the Benefactor?" Liam inquired.

"He still needs to know if the target is really dead," Scott answered.

"Especially if it's someone high on the list," Stiles muttered as he glanced over at my brother, his worried expression essentially summing up the way we were all feeling about this plan.

Liam nodded in understanding. "So if he wants visual confirmation. . .,"

"He's going to have to come get it for himself."

x

**A/N: **How weird is it that _Time of Death_ is the episode playing right now and that's the chapter I'm uploading? Freaky. But, TEEN WOLF IS ON IN T-MINUS FIVE HOURS GUYS (at least on the East Coast). I'M FREAKING OUT. I wanted to upload this today because I thought it would be sort of symbolic of the season premiering tonight.

Okay, about this chapter. I know it wasn't very action-packed or filled with a lot of Jiam scenes and I'm sorry if it was sort of boring, but that's because** I really needed to focus on Joey by herself** for this one. As you read, **Allison's death affected her greatly**, and it will continue to affect her psychologically over the course of the story, which will tie in nicely with the PTSD Liam experiences with the Berserkers.

They'll be spending _lots_ of time together trying to help each other face their fears and all that. I wanted to fit Time of Death into one chapter, but I found that really, really impossible with all the things I wanted to add in, so the episode will be wrapped up in the next chapter and I can move onto _Perishable _which was my favorite episode besides the finale.I'm going to have a lot of fun writing the bonfire scene ;)

As always, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed last chapter and continues to read on! This story has become far more successful than I ever thought it would when I just decided to type up a story about Liam because I thought his character had nice potential and I wanted to see him with a love interest. Speaking of, what are you guys thinking of Joey and Liam's relationship? Is there something specific you want to happen or not happen? Do you think it's too fast or too slow? Just let me know! :)

**AND CONTINUE FREAKING OUT ABOUT SEASON FIVE TONIGHT. **


	13. Intense Fear

chapter thirteen:  
_intense fear_

* * *

I, Josephine McCall, never thought I'd find myself in the morgue of Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital, staring down at the dead body of my older brother. But, then again, there was a very, _very_ long list of things I thought I'd never find myself doing that I _have _done—like watching said older brother turn into a rabid animal on his first full moon, like seeing Stiles actually play in a lacrosse game instead of sitting on the bench, like witnessing Kate Argent get her throat clawed out by Peter, like helping catch Jackson who had turned into a homicidal lizard or learning how to shoot a crossbow or fighting off supernatural ninjas or having my first kiss with a werewolf freshmen—and the list just went on. Endlessly.

However, this particular position was not one I was prepared to be in.

Scott laid pale and lifeless on a metal slab in front of me and I was having a hard time keeping myself together as I continued to gaze down at him. All of the anxiety in my body was rising to the surface and threatening to plunge me into a full-blown panic. I tapped nervously at my rosy-toned lips, resisting the urge to chew at my freshly manicured nails. Lydia had just taken me to get them done at a nail salon last week and I was positive the strawberry-blonde would kill me if I chipped the paint so soon.

I released a deep breath, trying to push down my nerves. Then my eyes swept over Scott's pale face once more and I realized there was no in hell I could stay calm.

God—I was _so_ against this _profoundly_ stupid idea.

"Joey," Liam spoke gently as he moved closer to my side and carefully grabbed my trembling hand, pulling it away from my lips. I hadn't realized how fast my heart was racing until Liam intertwined his fingers with mine and helped slow it down. "Everything's going to be okay," he told me softly. "This is going to work."

I shook my head in doubt before looking into his crystal blue eyes. "But what if it doesn't, Liam?" I questioned, searching his face for answers. "Statistically speaking in regard to our ridiculously high number of failed plans, something will go wrong—something _always_ goes wrong."

"Not this time," Kira stated from the other side of me, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder and giving me a small smile.

As if to contradict everything the two had just said, a shrill scream of pure agony ripped through the halls of the hospital, reverberating through the floors and shaking the walls. I squeezed my eyes shut at the sound of my mother's pained screams and turned to hide my face in Liam's chest. He accepted me into his arms, putting his arms around my waist to pull me in closer.

Though I knew my mom was putting on an act—another lovely part of the plan—I could still hear the real, underlying anguish in her voice and I felt my heart break because I couldn't do anything about it.

"We don't have to stay, Joey," Liam whispered and I felt his lips at my ear. "We don't have to be a part of this—Scott said so."

"No, I-I can't leave," I told him, breaking away from him as my eyes fell back on Scott. "I would never forgive myself if something happened to him and I wasn't here."

Liam nodded understandingly, resting his palm at the small of my back, and then both of us looked toward the doors of the morgue as my mom walked in, wiping at her eyes. She approached the table, standing opposite us with Stiles, and looked over Scott's lifeless body.

"I still hate this plan," she announced.

Stiles made a noise in his throat and gestured over at me. "Join the club."

"Well, I mean, this is pretty significantly terrifying," Mom justified, her eyes flickering wearily from Stiles to me before settling on Scott once more. "He looks dead."

"Give me your hand," Noshiko instructed with a kind smile. Mom held out a hesitant hand and allowed Kira's mom to guide it to Scott's chest, over his heart. Noshiko then glanced at me, her expression expectant as she offered me her free hand. "Would you?"

I shook my head in denial of her proposition as I unconsciously shrank a bit behind Liam. Noshiko turned her attention back to Mom and Liam looked down at me, an eyebrow raised in inquisition as his hand continued to move in comforting circles on my back.

"I'm okay," I answered his unspoken question in a quiet voice. "I'm just . . . a little shaken up."

Liam stared at me for a moment, skepticism and concern clear in his blue eyes. Unable to hold his gaze when he was looking at me like that, I glanced away and I heard him sigh in a resigned manner before we both tuned back into the conversation taking place between my mom and Noshiko.

"How much time do we have?"

"Forty-five minutes," Noshiko answered Mom.

"And after that?" I asked, my voice cracking, which made me feel much weaker than I already did. How could Allison have ever possibly thought I was strong? I was just the opposite—always the weak link and always the damsel in distress that needed saving from a new supernatural threat because I couldn't defend myself.

"I bring him back the same way," Kira told me, dividing an encouraging but weary smile between myself and Mom.

My eyebrows furrowed faintly as I realized a major detail of the plan that had never been discussed. "But what happens if he stays like this longer than forty-five minutes?" I watched confusedly as everyone in the room seemed to tense up, shooting nervous glances around at each other. I looked to Liam then, but he refused to raise his eyes from the floor and I suddenly felt a sense of hurt and betrayal wash over me. They weren't telling me everything.

"No one's told her?" Noshiko questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"What?" Mom pressed. "What happens after forty-five minutes?"

There was a moment of silence before Noshiko answered. "He dies."

My heart nearly stopped and I literally felt my world start to crumble down around me as I began drowning in my own sea of conflicting emotions. Though just barely, I could manage to cope with a brief—_very _brief—feigned death, but Scott McCall's _actual_ death was not part of the plan. Catching the Benefactor was essentially irrelevant in comparison. I couldn't believe my brother was risking his own life for this and none of my supposed "friends" had even bothered to _tell _me.

Without a second thought, I hastily pushed my way out of the morgue, my feet taking me in a random direction and toward an unknown destination as I headed down the hall.

"Joey!" Liam's voice called as he jogged down the hall after me. He grabbed me by the wrist, stopping me in the middle of the corridor. I tried to shake my arm from his grasp, but his strength was far greater than mine and he proceeded to grab my other arm with a firm grip, determined to keep me in place. "Joey, please just listen to me for a minute."

"How could you keep that from me?" I exclaimed angrily. Doctors and nurses continued to migrate around us, and at my outburst, some of them who recognized me threw brief, curious glances in our direction as they passed by. My voice quieted down significantly as I gazed into Liam's clear blue irises, a fresh wave of hurt washing over me and tears welling in my eyes. "How could you?"

"I wanted to tell you, but I—Scott, h-he asked me not to," he stammered out quickly in explanation. "He didn't want you to worry and neither did I, so I asked the others not to say anything either."

I felt my demeanor change as the remainder of angry energy in my body dissipated entirely and was replaced by defeat. I just wasn't equipped to be a part of a world where my brother was willing to sacrifice his life to save his friends and family. "I appreciate you trying to protect me, Liam, but he's my brother," I began. "His life is hanging in the balance right now and I need to be prepared to help him if something goes wrong—meaning I need all the details."

Liam nodded. "You're right, okay? You're right. It was wrong and I'm sorry, Joey."

At his puppy dog expression, I couldn't help but lean up to wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug which he returned without hesitation. "I just . . . after Allison . . . I-I can't lose my brother too," I whispered. "I wouldn't survive it, Liam, so please just be honest with me from now on."

"I will," he promised as his arms tightened around me.

"Hey—lovewolves!" Stiles called from down the hall, causing me and Liam to pull away from each other. Our lanky friend smiled at the equally unamused expressions we gave him and held up a Mac laptop, his eyebrows quirking up in question. "Are you coming or what?"

* * *

The four of us—Stiles, Liam, me, and Kira—set up shop in an unoccupied patient room of the hospital and stood at the side of the bed, entirely absorbed by the three laptops resting open in front of us. Thankfully, with the help of one resourceful Chris Argent, Stiles and Kira had managed to link the screens with the security cameras positioned around the building, giving us a panoramic view of every entrance, exit, stairwell, and hallway.

"I can't believe this is actually working," I commented in an astonished murmur.

"Yeah—let's pray everything _stays_ working," Stiles said, giving me a knowing glance before returning his eyes to the screens.

I felt a hand brush against the back of mine, drawing my attention away from the cameras and over to my right, where Liam was standing beside me. He gave me a small smirk as he subtly shifted closer to me and laced his fingers through mine, causing heat to rise on my cheeks. Liam chuckled quietly to himself before turning his eyes back to the screens.

I watched as his amused expression faltered into worry as he pointed to one of the monitors with his free hand. "Um, guys, is that supposed to look like that?" he questioned, obtaining the attention of Stiles and Kira. The four of us leaned into the middle laptop, staring at the screen as one section of the cameras begin to glitch and flicker before going black.

"No," Stiles replied with a shake of his head, his eyes sweeping over us before returning to the laptop. "No, it's not."

"Where is that?" Kira asked as she squinted at the screen, trying to assess what camera was down.

Stiles frowned as he looked over at us once more. "It's the roof," he said. "Someone's going to have to check it out."

"I'll go," Kira decided as she grabbed the sheath covering her sword and shifted to move toward the door.

I felt something snap within me, like the feeling of a puzzle piece falling into place or a light being switched on in a dark room and suddenly I heard Scott's voice echo in my thoughts.

"_I've slowly started to notice you turning back into the girl you used to be." _

And then I knew what I had to do—what my mind was pushing me to do.

"I'll come with you," I announced, causing Liam's eyes to snap to me in alarm as he instinctively tightened his grip on my hand, preventing me from taking even a step away from him.

"Woah, Jo, hold up," Stiles voiced his objection in words before Liam could. "This might not be just a malfunction."

"Which is exactly why she shouldn't go alone," I reasoned, glancing at Liam as I tried once more to tug my hand from his, but he wouldn't ease up.

"I'll be fine, Joey," Kira assured, giving me a soft smile.

"Kira," I began as I looked at her with a serious expression. "You're a badass kitsune with a kickass katana and I have complete confidence in your abilities, but I'm not letting Scott lose another girl he cares about, so I'm coming with you, okay?"

Kira's determined expression softened as she stared at me for a few moments. "Okay," she said softly. "Let's go."

I nodded in agreement and Kira sent me another small smile before turning, heading in the direction of the door once again. I went to follow, beginning to slip my fingers from Liam's, only for him to pull me back before I could completely let go of his hand. I turned to face him, glancing from our hands up to his eyes, my gaze filled with concern and unspoken questioning as I took in the worry swirling in his blue irises.

Liam exhaled exasperatedly, not so fond of silent communication just yet. "If you're going, I'm going," he stated, and then, before I could even think to protest, he started pulling me from the room.

"And you're all coming right back—like, _immediately_!" I heard Stiles call after us as we entered the hallway, trailing a few paces behind Kira as we all headed in the direction of the stairwell.

I bit the inside of my cheek as I glanced up at Liam and saw the anxious expression on his face, making me frown. "You don't have to do this, you know," I reminded him in a small voice.

Liam sighed and ran the hand that wasn't holding mine through his light brown hair. "I said I would be there to protect you, Joey," he said as he looked down at me. "So—yes, I have to do this."

With a light blush staining my cheeks, I looked away and bit my lip, trying to hold back a ridiculous smile as we reached the stairwell. Liam went in after Kira and ahead of me, leading me behind him. The three of us climbed flight after flight of steps quickly, and as we neared closer to the entrance of the roof, I felt my nerves beginning to rise, prickling at my skin with anxious energy. Knowing it was too late to turn back now, I pushed my fear to the back of my mind the way Allison had taught me as we flooded onto the roof, all of our eyes instantly being drawn to the electrical box in front of us.

I gasped in surprise before I felt Liam push me behind him as it began to crackle with light, shooting out little electric flares that resembled exploding fireworks.

"It looks like someone tampered with it," Liam commented once the box had short-circuited.

I was about to respond when a familiar, chilling growl sounded from behind us, making my body go rigid with fear. I knew what kind of creature made that sound, and when I turned around, my first instinct was to cower away from the Berserker looming above me. I stumbled back into Liam, who immediately grabbed me by the arm and pulled me behind him as he shifted.

"I think somebody did," Kira finally said, whipping her katana in front of her as she took a defensive stance.

My eyes widened in realization and I quickly started to panic as I glanced between Liam and Kira. Were they _actually_ going to try and fight this gigantic, essentially indestructible creature with _bones _for body parts?

A deafening roar ripped from Liam's throat, and before I could warn him not to, he lunged forward, causing my heart to stutter in fear. With all that was going on with the Benefactor, there hadn't been spare time to train Liam in learning different fighting techniques like Derek had done with Erica and Isaac, and I was more than a little worried about him blindly going up against a Berserker with absolutely zero practice in using his new abilities.

I watched as Liam began to swipe at the Berserker with his claws, but the creature easily dodged his attempts, grabbing him by the neck. The Berserker hurled Liam backward like he weighed nothing and my eyes went wide as he slammed into the chain-link fence surrounding the electrical box before falling to the ground with a grunt of pain.

"Liam!" I cried in frantic voice, instantly rushing to his side as Kira started to fight off the Berserker with her katana. I fell to my knees beside him, continuously shaking his arm in an attempt to lull him back to consciousness. "Liam! Liam, get up! Liam, _please_," I pleaded, my voice cracking and tears beginning to well in my chocolate-brown eyes as his body remained limp.

I looked around helplessly, my panicked gaze falling back on Kira as she slashed her sword against the Berserker. The katana barely made a scrape in the bone armor, and the Berserker growled, knocking her sword from her grasp before violently tossing her aside.

Liam began to cough beside me and I instantly focused my attention back on him as I quickly helped him to his feet.

"We have to help Kira," I said breathlessly, and Liam shot a wide-eyed glance at the Berserker, hastily nodding in agreement before we both moved to haul Kira up by her arms. Regaining her bearings, Kira retrieved her katana from the ground and readied herself to continue fighting.

"Stay back, Joey," Liam snarled through his fangs as he glared up at the Berserker, preparing for another attack.

I did as I was told, slightly stumbling over my own feet as I moved back against the fence behind me while Liam raced toward the Berserker once more. The creature swung an arm out before Liam could manage a hit, striking him across the face, and as I watched him slam back to the ground, my head began to spin. I felt my knees buckle beneath me as flashbacks of Allison's death materialized before my eyes, one after another—her crossbow slipping from her hands as the Oni plunged a sword through her . . . Scott cradling her in his arms . . . her gloved hand falling limp to the ground as she took her last breath—and suddenly, I couldn't breathe. I collapsed, my hands grasping at my neck as I felt my throat close up, preventing me from getting enough oxygen into my body.

Liam noticed me struggling for air and looked up at me with a frantic expression. "Joey!" he exclaimed as he fought to push himself up. "Joey, what's wrong? What's happening?"

I shook my head rapidly. "I-I can't . . . Liam, I can't breathe."

"Liam, get her out of here!" Kira shouted, and then, when he didn't move, "_Liam_!"

Liam immediately clenched his hands into fists, determinately pushing up to his feet and turning on the Berserker with a ferocious roar. He lunged a final time, throwing himself up onto a metal box before pouncing on the daunting creature, tearing his claws across the Berserker's chest. The Berserker stumbled back slightly before abruptly going rigid. Turning away, the Berserker's hulking steps echoed across the roof as it disappeared into the night.

Liam stared after the creature for a moment, his fierce yellow eyes fading back to a calm blue and his wolf-like features vanishing before he rushed over to me, falling to his knees in front of me.

"Liam, there are only a few minutes left," Kira stated, her words rushed. "I have to get to Scott."

Liam nodded in understanding, giving her a brief glance. "Go," he told her.

Kira's eyes shifted to me, and she looked reluctant to leave, but after a moment she quickly hurried away.

Once she was gone, Liam gave me his full attention. "Joey," he spoke urgently, cupping my face in his hands and tilting my head up toward him. "Joey, _look_ at me," he pleaded, and hearing the panic in the tone of his voice, I wrenched my gaze away from the ground, staring into his clear blue eyes. "_Breathe_," Liam instructed softly, brushing a chocolate lock behind my ear. "You're okay—you're safe and you're here with me. Come on, Joey, just think about me. _Just_ me." I concentrated on the pure blue color of his irises while listening to his words, willing myself to calm down.

Liam nodded in encouragement as he watched me slow my breathing to a normal rate.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, running a hand through my hair as he helped me stand, steadying me when I wobbled slightly.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for, Joey," Liam murmured, before hooking an arm around my waist and drawing me into a hard kiss, knocking the air right back out of my lungs. He pulled away before I could manage to respond and rested his forehead against mine, bringing a hand up to tenderly cup my cheek. "God, don't ever scare me like that again," he whispered breathlessly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I gently pulled away from him, shaking my head. "No," I replied quietly. "Not tonight."

Liam stared at me for a moment with uncertain blue eyes. "Are you sure?"

I'm sure," I told him softly, my lips lifting into a small smile.

Liam nodded, seemingly in relief, before slipping his arms around my waist once more and pulling me into a hug. Winding my own arms around his neck, I melted into the warmth of his body, thankful he couldn't see the way my assured smile turned to an expression of intense fear.

What the hell was happening to me?

x

**A/N: **Okay, so I don't know if this chapter was a good one. I felt like it was kind of choppy, but it's a really important chapter for Joey's character development. As you could tell, Allison's death is still affecting her.

Aside from that, I'd just really like to take another moment to appreciate all of you guys. This story has surpassed 200 reviews and 500 follows—like that is _crazy_! I am so stunned and I am so, just, _thankful_ for all of you readers. The feedback I received on the last chapter was absolutely _mind-blowing_ (to quote Mason from the season five trailer, haha). I love reading your reviews! Especially the long ones! I love the things you say and the things you pick up on, like Stiles being overprotective of Joey and good stuff like that. So, again, thank you!

**Alright, now I have a question.** What do you guys want to see happen at the bonfire next chapter? What do you want to see Liam or Joey do? What do you want to happen between them? I feel like this is a chapter I can have some fun with and explore some areas of their relationship, so I don't want to disappoint you guys with it. Let me know! :)


	14. Drunken Lacrosse Jocks

chapter fourteen:_  
drunken lacrosse jocks_

* * *

_The world around me seemed to slow as Scott and I skidded to a stop outside the wire fence surrounding the dusty and abandoned courtyard of Oak Creek. On the other side of the chain-link barrier, an Oni_—_a supernatural demon designed to kill dark spirits_—_had just plunged a sword through my brother's first love and _my_ best friend._

_A strangled cry left my throat, my breath catching and my heart stopping as I watched the Oni pull the sword from Allison's body. I knew_—_I__ knew by the way Isaac sank to his knees, by the desperate way Kira and her mother held onto each other, by the look on Scott's face_—_I__ knew this was the end. _

_Allison swayed unsteadily on her feet, and suddenly my brother was pushing through the gate, cradling her into his arms as she fell to the ground._

_I wanted to move, I wanted to rush to Allison's side, but I couldn't. My blood had run cold and every muscle in my body had locked up as I stood paralyzed, tears racing down my cheeks as I listened to Scott's pleading voice._

"_Allison, please don't. Allison_—_don't. Please. Allison, no. No!"_

_I watched in horror, a wracked sob escaping my lips, as her hand touching Scott's face suddenly went limp and fell to the concrete as she drew her last breath. _

"_Allison!" _

My eyes abruptly snapped open as Lydia's shrill scream pierced through my dream and rang in my ears, startling me awake. My frantic heartbeat and shortened breath calmed considerably as Mason's concerned face came into focus in front of me. My confused gaze scanned my surroundings, and as I noticed all the empty desks around me, I drew the conclusion I'd slept through my entire fourth period class.

"Joey," Mason spoke firmly, drawing my attention back to him. He was watching me with worried eyes. "Are you okay?"

Blinking up at him for a moment, I tried to collect myself. "I'm, um, j-just a bit tired."

Running a hand through my hair, I abruptly pushed up from my desk and gathered my belongings before heading toward the door of the economics classroom with Mason in tow.

"Are you sure?" I heard him question from behind me as I entered the bustling hallway full of Beacon Hills students and turned in the direction of my locker.

I nodded distractedly, my mind reeling as Mason continued to ramble beside me.

It was Friday—meaning five days had passed since I'd suffered a panic attack on the roof of the hospital, also meaning I'd gone five days without sleeping properly as I endlessly tossed and turned throughout the night with images of Allison's death playing on a loop in my head.

I didn't know when the dreams and the flashbacks would stop—I didn't know what to do to _make _them stop. All I knew was that seeing Liam being attacked by the Berserker had in some way triggered those traumatizing memories I'd managed to store away for the last two months and now I was practically drowning in a sea of my own insanity.

"Joey, are you even listening to me?" Mason questioned as we came to a stop at my locker.

I shook my head in hopes of clearing my thoughts and gave him an apologetic glance as I put my economics textbook away. "I'm sorry, Mase." I sighed. "I'm just feeling a little distracted lately."

"Yeah, no kidding," he responded as he leaned against the locker beside mine and crossed his arms over his chest. "You've been acting weird all week—you _and_ Liam. Did something happen between you two? Is that why you're both being so edgy?"

I paused in the process of trying to wedge a notebook from between my English and algebra books. "Liam's acting weird?" I questioned, suddenly feeling my own worries get pushed to the back of my mind.

Mason jokingly rolled his eyes. "I can't believe that's all you got out of that."

"Mason," I pressed.

He sighed. "Yes, he's acting weird," he told me. "Especially this morning when I was talking to him about the bonfire. He was all anxious and jumpy and falling all over himself. He looks like he hasn't slept in days—just like you, by the way—leading me to believe something's happened between you two. So, out with it."

My eyes widened. "O-Out with it?" I repeated, focusing my attention back on my locker. "Out with what exactly?"

Mason tilted his head to the side as he shot me a _you-know-exactly-what-I'm-talking-about_ look. "Come on, Joey," he began. "The entire school knows Liam has a thing for you. Why do you think all the guys in our grade haven't stepped within a foot of you since he transferred here? Liam's the jealous type and they don't want to end up with black eyes."

"That is not true, Mason," I denied, looking at himrather reproachfully for insinuating such a thing about his best friend.

"I'm serious," he said with a light laugh. "Liam wouldn't hesitate to hit a guy over you—which is why you should probably be careful at the bonfire tonight. Drunken lacrosse jocks have the tendency to be handsy."

Instead of wondering how Mason knew this, I raised an eyebrow at him. "And who said I'm coming to the bonfire? I'm not really a fan of crowds, Mase. Or alcohol. Or big masses of fire, for that matter." I shook my head as I closed my locker. "This just has _bad _written all over it."

"Oh, you're coming," Mason declared, paying no attention whatsoever to the grimace on my face. "I'm going to find myself a lacrosse player and you're going to be my wing woman."

"Mason—"

"_And_ we're going to get you drunk."

"I am _not_—" the bell rang, cutting off my protest, causing Mason to smirk in triumph and give me a light pat on the shoulder before walking off to his next class.

I stared after him in amusement for a moment, wondering how on earth Mason and I were friends when we were so obviously different, before I shook the thought away and started down the hall toward my creative writing class.

I was only a few steps away when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. Stopping off to the side of the corridor so I wouldn't be in the way of other students, I slid my phone from my ripped skinny jeans. I glanced down at the device, my eyes widening slightly in surprise as a text from Liam flashed across the screen.

I had been rather distant with him since the night at the hospital. Not only was I utterly embarrassed by what happened, but the nightmares and constant flashbacks of Allison's death were holding my mind hostage, keeping my thoughts away from Liam over the past several days. He had called a few times, tried talking to me in class, and tracked me down in the halls, but I'd dodged his attempts to reach out to me each time. Though I knew he was worried about me, I didn't want to drag him down any farther into the depths of my mess.

Feeling a sudden ache in my heart I recognized as longing, I unlocked my screen and opened his message.

**Can we talk? I'm at the stairs by Coach's office. **

Without pausing to think about the repercussions of skipping one of my classes, I quickly tucked my phone away and turned on the small heels of my riding boots, heading back in the direction I had come from. Coach's office was only two halls over, and I felt my heartbeat accelerate as I found Liam, sitting on the stairs exactly where he said he'd be—the same set of stairs where we'd first met. It was crazy to think about everything that had happened between then and now. Things had changed so much.

Holding my books close to my chest, I approached Liam slowly, knowing something was wrong just by looking at him. His head was bowed and his eyebrows were furrowed in a pensive expression as he fiddled with the strings of his lacrosse stick.

I knew a nervous habit when I saw one.

Liam glanced up at me as I came to a stop in front of him.

"Hi," I greeted uncertainly, my throat feeling dry all of a sudden.

"Hey," he responded in a quiet voice as he lowered his blue eyes back to his lacrosse stick. I waited patiently for him to say something more as I watched a battle of different emotions cross his face. "You—um, you can sit if you want," he eventually told me, giving me another brief glance as he gestured to the empty space beside him.

Biting my lip, I nodded and placed my belongings on the floor near his backpack before sitting next to him.

His eyes returned to his stick, and I studied him for a moment, noticing the way his hands trembled as he continued to fidget with the strings. Tentatively, I reached out and placed my hand on top of his, stopping his anxious movements. Liam was still for a moment before I felt his fingers curl around mine as his tense posture seemed to relax some.

"Liam," I said softly, causing him to look at me, his crystal blue eyes finally holding my gaze for more than a second. "Talk to me."

Liam released a small breath, his eyes falling on my hand as he tightened his grip on it ever so slightly. "Last night . . . my printer went off by itself. I-I couldn't turn it off," he explained. "I hit the cancel button and it . . . it just kept printing."

"Printing what?" I questioned hesitantly.

With the hand that wasn't holding onto mine, Liam placed his lacrosse stick on the floor before reaching into the back pocket of his light jeans and pulling out a slip of paper. He bit his lip as he handed it to me, and I gave him a weary glance in return, gently withdrawing my hand from his grasp to unfold it.

I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear as I looked down at the piece of paper, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion. It was one of the thirds to the deadpool.

Why would Liam's printer be making copies of this?

"What the hell is this?" Finstock's voice suddenly boomed from down the hall.

Liam and I shared a look before we both pushed up from the stairs to head over to the outside of Coach's office. My eyes widened at the mess of papers scattered on the floor, more sheets flying out of Coach's printer one after the other as he smacked different buttons, trying to turn it off.

This couldn't be a coincidence.

Liam—who was mostly likely thinking the same thing I was—gave me another glance before he leaned into Coach's office and swiped one of the papers from the floor. Standing back up, Liam grabbed my wrist, pulling me away before either of us could be noticed by Finstock, and handed me the paper he retrieved.

"Do you see the difference?" Liam asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched me examine the two copies of the deadpool.

"Derek's not on the list anymore," I murmured.

"That's not all," Liam responded, and hearing the unease in his voice, I looked up at him. With an expression of worry spreading across his face, he gestured back to the list, and I returned my eyes to the papers, searching for another difference.

Once I found the one Liam was surely referring to, my pulse began to quicken at an alarmingly fast rate. "You're not worth three million anymore," I stated quietly as I raised my gaze to his.

"It's eighteen now," he finished. "Eighteen million dollars."

I felt panic rush through my veins almost instantly. With the new amount added to his name, Liam was the third highest price on the list after Scott and Lydia, meaning his life was in more danger now than ever before.

And suddenly, all I could think about was Liam's fate ending the same as Allison's.

"Hey, nothing's going to happen to me, Joey," Liam spoke gently, his arms circling my waist as he pulled me closer, drawing me into a hug. "I'm okay."

I sighed and wound my arms around his neck, letting his warmth comfort me. Liam undoubtedly gave the best hugs. "But you don't have to be," I told him softly, causing Liam to pull away slightly with a small frown on his face. "You don't have to be the strong one all the time," I elaborated. "It's okay to let yourself feel scared."

His eyebrows furrowed faintly. "I can't be scared and protect you at the same time."

"I'm not the one who needs protection right now," I argued. "And besides, that's a lot of responsibility for one person to bear."

"I don't care," Liam stated with a look of determination. "Scott told me a lot of things that night we spent at the lake house—he told me he's so overprotective of you because of all the people who used you to hurt him in the past." I found my gaze falling to the floor as I remembered Peter, Gerard, Deucalion, the twins, and all the others who had threatened my life at some point or another while trying to get to Scott. "You don't have to be supernatural for your life to be in danger—you just have to know someone who is. And in case you haven't noticed, Joey, you know a lot."

"I've noticed, Liam," I mumbled.

"Hey." Liam cupped my cheek, tilting my chin up toward him. "Look at me. I'll never let someone hurt you like that again. I'm _going_ to protect you, Joey."

"We'll protect each other," I decided in a soft voice.

Liam let out a small smile before he leaned in and pressed his lips against mine. I grasped onto his shoulders to keep myself balanced and tentatively kissed him back. My movements were still a bit hesitant and uncertain, but in my defense, I didn't have much experience in the romantic area. Liam, however, didn't seem to mind. He tilted his head for a better angle and pushed his lips against mine with more force, his hands tangling in my chocolate locks.

I loved kissing Liam—I loved how soft his lips felt, the warmth that spread through my body, the butterflies in my stomach, and how safe he made me feel.

"Stupid, stupid, _stupid_!" We heard Coach shout, followed by more sounds of him assaulting his printer, startling us enough to pull away from each other. My cheeks reddened as I realized he had only been a short distance away the entire time and could have easily walked out of his office at any moment to see me and Liam.

That was the _last_ thing I needed.

"There are only a few minutes left this period," Liam said, glancing at the clock over my head. "We should probably go find Scott."

"Yeah—um, o-okay," I stammered in agreement, my mind still slightly clouded by his blissful kiss.

Raising an amused eyebrow, Liam smirked and held his hand out to me. I accepted his hand with a small smile and allowed Liam to intertwine our fingers before we headed off to find Scott.

* * *

"Has he kissed you?"

"_Lydia_," I groaned in complete and utter discomfort from the passenger seat of her Corolla.

I covered my face with my hands, hoping to hide the blush flaring across my cheeks as I wondered why each of my friends felt the need to ask me uncomfortable questions about Liam. It was like they _enjoyed_ watching me squirm and turn into a stammering mess. I'd been in the car for all of a minute when Lydia began interrogating me, instantly making me regret my decision to ask the strawberry-blonde for a ride to the bonfire.

Lydia hummed in delight. "He has," she deduced, the edges of her pink lips quirking into a small smile. "Was it good?"

A squawk-like noise sounded from behind us as Stiles scrambled forward to poke his head between our seats. "Excuse you?"

"Oh, my God," I muttered, biting down on my fist to keep from letting a mortifying detail slip as I turned to look out the window, feeling an overwhelming amount of embarrassment.

Lydia rolled her eyes at Stiles' typical behavior as she turned onto the road leading toward the high school. "Being attracted to a member of the opposite sex is perfectly normal for a girl Joey's age, Stiles," she stated matter-of-factly.

I could see Stiles' eye twitching in the reflection of the window as he stared at the strawberry-blonde in disbelief. "Lydia, I swear—"

"Oh, look! We're here!" I exclaimed as the blazing, cyclone-shaped fire came into view, burning bright against the dark background of the Beacon Hills sky.

Lydia pulled her Corolla to a stop on the outskirts of the bonfire and shifted the car into park.

I felt my stomach begin to flip with a familiar sense of anxiety, my heart pounding a little faster as I studied the rowdy environment in front of me, my wide eyes taking in the masses upon masses of wild teenagers.

Lydia placed a hand on my shoulder in a comforting gesture. "You'll be fine, Joey," she assured. "Go find Liam and have some fun."

I tried to force a smile onto my face as I glanced back at Lydia before pushing my way out of the car, shutting the door behind me.

"Um, hey, no—not too much fun!" Stiles called, sticking his head out the window.

I watched in amusement as Lydia reached back and grabbed him by the collar of his plaid shirt, pulling him back into the car. The strawberry-blonde then rolled up the window, muffling Stiles' sounds of protest, and gave me a departing wave before she drove off down the road.

I stared after them for a moment, shaking my head at the pair's antics. I still didn't understand why they never dated.

Taking a deep breath, I swallowed my fears and turned to face the party. I began to weave through the crowd surrounding the bonfire, my hands nervously fidgeting with the hem of my skirt as I searched for a familiar face. My gaze found Malia's, causing my eyes to widen before I abruptly turned around, intending to head in the opposite direction. I hadn't seen the were-coyote since the day of the PSATs nearly a week ago, and though Malia had tried many times to contact me, I never responded to her attempts. No matter how much I missed my friend, I was too ashamed of what I'd done to bring herself to talk to her.

In the midst of another evasion tactic, I yelped in surprise when I suddenly came face-to-face with Malia.

"Stop avoiding me," she stated, blocking my path each time I tried to step around her.

"I'm not—"

"Joey." Malia gave me a flat look.

"Okay, so I might be avoiding you," I admitted sheepishly. "A little. Maybe."

Malia's eyebrows furrowed. "Why? Because of the whole Peter thing? I'm over it," she promised, bringing a silver flask up to her lips.

"Are you sure?" I asked skeptically, watching as Malia chugged the alcoholic contents of the flask, my expression a cross between worried and uncertain. I sighed once I realized Malia wasn't going to say more on the subject. "I know I hurt you, Malia, and I'm sorry. I thought it was for the best. We were all just trying to protect you. Me, Lydia, Kira, Scott, Stiles—"

"I don't want to talk about Stiles," Malia quickly interrupted. "I just want to get drunk. Let's get drunk, Joey."

"I don't really think that's a good idea," I responded, reaching out to steady her as she stumbled slightly off balance.

Straightening up, Malia waved her flask around and began to clumsily turn on the heels of her combat boots. "Suit yourself," she called over her shoulder before disappearing into the crowd entirely.

I sighed once more as I stared after my troubled friend for a moment before letting my eyes wander. My stomach filled with untamable butterflies as my gaze found Liam, who was sitting on top of a picnic table a small distance away from the rest of the bonfire. I felt a faint frown pull at my lips as I watched him knock back a bottle of something I assumed was alcoholic. Trying not to focus on how insanely good he looked in his lacrosse jersey, I started to make my way toward him.

Liam finished off his drink, his blue eyes falling on me just as I broke through the crowd in front of him.

"Hey," he said in a sullen tone, his gaze faltering the tiniest bit, causing my frown to deepen.

"Hi," I responded softly as I stared at him with an uncertain expression—I could tell something was definitely off with him.

Despite the overwhelming noise of our bustling surroundings, an uncomfortable silence ensued between me and Liam. I tried to decipher the different emotions on his face, wondering what was causing the sudden tension between us, but Liam refused to meet my eyes. He was like an entirely different person compared to earlier at the school.

As he stared out at the bonfire, essentially ignoring my existence, I bit my lip as I pondered what to say. It was then I noticed the unusual absence of our third freshman friend.

"Where's Mason?" I asked, turning my head to search the crowd for him.

Liam shrugged carelessly. "Who knows?"

I drew my eyebrows together as I looked back to him. "Liam, are you okay?" I questioned hesitantly.

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Why wouldn't I be?"

I narrowed my eyes. Liam was acting an awful lot like the cocky lacrosse player I had watched show off the day of tryouts, but with ten times more arrogance, and I wasn't liking it. "Because you're acting like a jerk," I told him bluntly, taking a page out of Malia's book.

He scoffed as he pushed up from the table. "I wouldn't expect you to understand, Joey."

Before I could ask him what he meant by that, Liam seemed to trip over his own feet, staggering slightly to the side, and I instinctively grabbed him by the arms, helping to steady him. His face was now within inches of mine, and as I looked closer, I noticed the faint red tinge around his irises.

"Liam, maybe you should sit down," I suggested lightly, directing him backward toward the picnic table. To say I was worried would be an understatement. I knew werewolves couldn't get drunk, but there was no other way to explain Liam's current state. "I'll go find you some water."

Liam swiftly grabbed my wrist, refusing to sit down. "I don't want water," he told me firmly, the soft glow of the fire reflected in the crystal blue of his eyes.

I looked at him with uncertainty. "Then what do you want?"

Instead of answering me, Liam placed his hands on my waist and drew me into his chest, causing my eyes to widen. I opened my mouth to let out some form of objection, but before I could manage to speak, Liam leaned in and claimed my lips with his. I instantly forgot my moral inhibitions and kissed him back, grasping the mesh material of his lacrosse jersey into my fists as I pulled him closer.

Liam took a step back without disconnecting his lips from mine and sat down on the bench of the picnic table, tugging me onto his lap. I paid no attention to the new position as I settled my legs on either side of him and pushed my fingers through his hair, making Liam moan softly against my mouth.

He slipped his hands under my skirt and I felt my breath catch as he gently trailed his fingers up my thighs. My skin burned beneath his touch, and though my teenage hormones yearned for more, my rational thought was telling me to stop him. I might not be experienced in this particular area, but I knew what my limits were, and Liam was pushing my boundaries too far.

"Liam, wait," I said breathlessly as his lips strayed from my mouth to suck at my collarbone. My heart thrummed in panic as I felt his fangs scrape my skin.

Liam abruptly pulled away from me, grimacing as he held his head. Confused, I stood up from his lap and watched in concern as his eyes flickered a dark shade of gold for a moment before fading back to blue. He tried to push up to his feet, but ended up losing his balance, stumbling much more than he had earlier. I immediately moved to help him, wrapping one of his arms around my shoulder to support his weight as he leaned against me.

Mason appeared in that moment, his eyes wide as he looked at his best friend. "What's wrong with him?" he questioned as he tossed down his red cup to put Liam's other arm around his shoulder.

I shook my head frantically. "I don't know," I told him, glancing at Liam in worry. "Help me sit him down."

Mason complied and together we managed to place Liam on top of the picnic table once more.

I gently cupped his face in my hands and kept his head up as I examined him. He was blinking rapidly, clenching and unclenching his jaw, his eyes unfocused.

"Joey," I heard someone call over the pounding music, and I glanced around, my gaze falling on Scott, who was heading in our direction with Malia. I felt my stomach twist in fear as I noticed Malia was struggling to stay upright. Something was going on—something bad. "How much has he had to drink?" Scott asked, nodding in Liam's general direction as he settled Malia in the grass with a bottle of water.

"Not enough to get him like this," Mason answered as I continued to prevent Liam's head from falling.

"Something's happening—we have to get them out of here. I think we're going to . . . have to . . . um," Scott trailed off, causing me to glance over at him with furrowed brows. My brother was staring down at his hand in a slight daze.

"Scott?" I questioned in concern. "How much did you drink?"

"Nothing," he told me with a faint shake of his head. "Not even a sip."

A surge of panic shot through me as I watched Scott stumble forward, using the picnic table for support as he squeezed his eyes shut. I looked around frantically, searching the area for something or someone to help us. My gaze fell on the DJ station, and as the music seemed to grow louder, the base pounding in my ears, the pieces clicked in my mind.

"Scott, it's not the drinks," I said urgently. "It's the music."

"I have to—I have to turn it off," Scott responded, pushing up from the table with a determined expression, blinking once as he tried to collect himself enough to start walking toward the DJ. He divided a firm look between me and Mason. "Don't let them out of your sight."

"We won't," I promised while Mason nodded.

Scott headed into the crowd, and only a moment later, two police officers approached us. I watched as one of them roughly grabbed Malia while the other caught hold of Liam and tried to yank him off the table.

"Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing?" I demanded, automatically reaching out for Liam's other arm to keep him in place.

"These are our friends," Mason explained.

"Your _friends_ are overly intoxicated," the man explained in a gruff voice, pressing a warning hand against Mason's chest as he glared at me. "They need to be escorted out."

"Okay, we'll go with them," Mason quickly negotiated.

"That won't be necessary," the officer replied firmly, before attempting to pull Liam away from me once more.

"You're not taking them anywhere," I snapped as I tightened my grip on Liam's arm. I wasn't sure where all this sudden courage was stemming from, but at the moment, the instinct to protect the boy I was head over heels for was overpowering every other emotion I was feeling.

There was no way in hell I was going to let these supposed "officers" just walk off with Liam and Malia.

"I said they're our friends," Mason repeated more firmly, preparing to step around the man.

The man shoved him to the ground, and as I went to retaliate, another officer wrapped his arms around my neck from behind. He held me in a chokehold, forcing me to let go of Liam. Struggling frantically against the officer restraining me, I felt tears brim my eyes as I watched Malia and Liam be carried away.

"_Nous protégons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se proteger eux-mêmes," Allison whispered as she aimed her bow at the target she and I had painted on a tree a few yards away. _

"_What does it mean?" I questioned in a curious voice, watching as Allison closed her eyes and took a deep breath, the way she often did before taking a shot. _

"_We protect those who cannot protect themselves," she translated, glancing back at me once. "You should always do whatever you can to protect the people you care about, Joey_—_even if that means taking a risk. It'll be worth it in the end."_

_She then pulled back on the string of her bow and released the arrow. It soared through the air and struck the red circle perfectly in the center of the target, causing my eyes to widen. _

"_Now," Allison began with a triumphant smile, holding her bow out to me. "Your turn." _

I was suddenly thrust back into the present with Allison's voice still lingering in my mind—her voice telling me to protect the people I care about.

"Nous protégons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se proteger eux-mêmes," I whispered to myself, letting my eyes fall shut for a moment as I felt the words cause a change in me.

A new-found strength consumed me, ordering me to fight.

I threw my elbow back, landing a sharp blow to the officer's cheekbone. His arms loosened around me as he grunted in pain and I took the opportunity to free myself. I spun around to face him and twisted my body slightly to the side as I kicked my leg up, the heel of my shoe striking his throat. The officer fell to the ground, clutching at his neck as he coughed and gasped for air.

Beside him, two lacrosse players helped a surprised Mason to his feet.

He stared at me in a mix of shock and awe. "That—that was awesome," he spluttered. "Where did you learn that?"

"It's a long story, Mase," I told him in a soft voice. "Maybe I'll be able to tell it to you someday."

I offered him a small smile, but didn't give him a chance to speak before I turned and ran in the direction I had seen the officers take Liam.

I was going to save him—I was going to save everyone, _even if that meant taking a risk_.

x

**A/N:** Wow—_that_ was a chapter. I'm uploading this later than I planned, but it was such a daunting one for me to write. I got stuck at a few places and had to do all this editing and re-plotting (?) before I finally got it right. I know you guys had a lot of expectations for this chapter, so I hope it wasn't disappointing! It's the longest chapter I've written yet and believe me, it was a whirlwind.

This chapter was the turning point for Joey's character development. Joey is no longer the timid girl having panic attacks and thinking of herself as a defenseless human and you'll find out why this change has happened next chapter if you haven't already caught on! Also, just as a side note, the things in italics are flashbacks :)

Now, as always, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed last chapter and everyone who continues to read this story! The feedback I get is _amazing_ and I take it all into consideration when I'm writing! As a hint for the next chapter, you'll be seeing more of Brett (because how awesome was he in Monday night's episode?), so prepare yourselves.

If you have any questions about the story or Jiam or just anything, feel free to PM me!

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! :)


	15. Inner Huntress

chapter fifteen:  
_inner huntress_

* * *

I ran—_sprinted_—toward the front of the high school building as fast as my legs (and three inch heels) would carry me.

I was taking a chance on a whim, a whim that told me the police officers had taken Scott, Malia, and Liam into the school because it was the nearest place of seclusion to do whatever they had planned.

Nearing the entrance of the school, I found myself scrambling to a stop as I noticed two guards standing in front of the doors, most likely keeping a lookout to make sure no one interrupted what was going on inside. As the overwhelming scent of gasoline wafted through the air around me, I panicked momentarily, remembering this morning when Scott had told me an officer at the police department had attempted to kill Deputy Parrish by burning him alive.

Were the assassins really so desperate for money that they would burn three high school students to death?

Fear, greater than ever, griped my entire being as I contemplated my next actions in a frenzy. Fighting off an officer when he wasn't expecting it was one thing, but going up against two armed policemen who were alert, prepared, and most likely twice my size, was an entirely different scenario—one I was smart enough to know wouldn't end well for me.

I remembered what Chris always told me and Allison as I tried to calm down and think of a rational plan. You had to approach a situation like this without emotion, no matter who you were trying to save.

In a moment I could only describe as the universe being on my side, the music from the bonfire suddenly switched off and a round of collective protests sounded from behind me, causing the officers to glance at each other before they left to go investigate what was happening.

I took the window of opportunity that had just been handed to me and quickly resumed my path toward the school's entrance. With no actual plan in mind, I burst through the double doors, my eyes widening in surprise at the unexpected commotion going on in the hallway. Derek and Braeden were fighting off a myriad of police officers while Scott, Malia, and Liam were lying in heaps on the floor, drenched in a liquid I confirmed was gasoline by the smell.

As I watched the chaos unfolding in front of me, contemplating if I should try to help in some way, I spotted the balding man who had pushed Mason back at the bonfire. He was on the ground, crawling toward a thin metal object I recognized as a lighter. He reached out for it, and as I remembered the rough way he had grabbed Liam, I felt a sudden surge of anger rush through my veins, causing me to stomp my heel down onto his hand.

The man yelped in pain and glared up at me, but before he could recover enough from the injury to retaliate, Derek came out of nowhere, swinging his knee into his temple, knocking him out cold.

"I see you're finally tapping into that inner huntress," Derek commented in a proud voice, giving me a little smirk as his green eyes flickered between me and the man's bloody hand.

Feeling a blush creep on my cheeks, I shrugged sheepishly.

Coughing sounded from the floor, causing me and Derek to glance over at Scott, who was pushing himself up into a sitting position against the lockers. "What happened to the gun?" he asked hoarsely, staring up at Derek questioningly.

Derek pulled a face as he walked over to my brother. "You're covered in gasoline," he pointed out the obvious.

"Oh, yeah."

As Derek pulled Scott to his feet, I headed over to Liam and Malia, crouching down in front of them. Before I could ask either if they were okay, Malia pulled me into a bone crushing hug. Wrapping my arms around Malia's neck, I hugged her back just as tightly and closed my eyes with a sigh of relief. I knew this was her way of telling me I was officially forgiven.

"I love you, Josephine McCall," she mumbled into my shoulder, sounding more vulnerable and broken than I'd ever heard her.

"I love you too, Malia Tate," I whispered.

Malia released me after another moment, offering a small smile, before she pushed up from the floor and headed over to Scott and Derek, still a bit wobbly on her feet. I glanced at Liam then, who had yet to say anything. His eyes were trained on the floor and I noticed he was trembling, causing my brows to furrow in concern.

"Liam," I said softly as I placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He flinched away slightly and I frowned, scooting closer to him. He slowly looked up at me and I felt my heart shatter as I saw the fear glistening in his crystal blue eyes. "Liam, you're okay."

He merely nodded, still not speaking a word as I cupped his jaw, soothingly running my thumb over his cheek.

As I watched Liam close his eyes and lean into my comforting touch, I realized the boy I had met on the stairs the day of lacrosse tryouts was gone. _That_ boy had been stripped down to his very last layer and was now the vulnerable, frightened boy sitting in front of me.

"Joey," Scott said in a quiet voice as he placed a hand on my shoulder, causing me to look up at him. "We should probably start to head out of here." He cast a concerned glance at Liam. "Do you want to ride back to the house with Derek while I take Liam?"

I nodded silently and reluctantly withdrew my hand from Liam's face as Scott carefully helped me up to my feet. Seeing the distress on my face, Derek placed a consoling hand on the small of my back and gave me a reassuring pat before beginning to lead me out of the school toward his car parked in the lot.

I despondently climbed into the back as Braeden and Derek took their seats in the front. I stared out the window while Derek started up the engine, an intense feeling of worry washing over me as I thought about Liam.

He had vowed to be strong for me—to protect me, but I had promised him the same thing, and now it was _my_ turn to be strong for him.

* * *

Being a part of my brother's pack meant little time for rest.

Once Derek parked his FJ Cruiser outside the house, he, Braeden, and Scott instantly gathered in the kitchen to begin drawing out strategies to locate the surviving members Brett's pack before more assassins could.

After the night's events, I realized just how _deadly_ the deadpool actually was. Anyone with the list could try and take their turn at killing my friends and family. Scott and Derek seemed to understand this as well, since their idea was to join alliances with Satomi's pack. Though I didn't know much about Satomi—or Brett, for that matter—I trusted Scott's judge of character and would do anything I could to help him, all the while remembering the Argent's code.

For hours on end, I listened to Derek explain what had happened to Satomi's pack, watching as he and Braeden spread out a map of Beacon Hills on the kitchen table, marking all the possible places they could be hiding with a red sharpie marker. Though I was determined to contribute in whatever way I could, I occasionally found both my eyes and my mind wandering away from the conversation at hand as I cast a few concerned glances into the living room, where Liam was sitting on the couch. He looked lost in his own thoughts as he stared down at the floor and fidgeted with his hands, completely tuning out the things going on around him.

I would pay every cent of the one-hundred and seventeen million dollars stolen from the Hale vault to find out what was going on in his head. Liam hadn't spoken a word since the bonfire and as the night wore on, he only seemed to be retreating farther within himself, becoming more distant with each passing minute.

"Braeden and I are going to search the preserve," Derek stated, drawing me out of my worried thoughts. "They probably think their best chances at staying hidden are in the woods."

"Okay." Scott nodded and checked a text on his phone. "Kira's heading to the school now to look there. I'm going to meet her after I get cleaned up."

I glanced at the clock on the wall as Derek and Braeden began packing up their belongings. The time was nearing two in the morning, and I just couldn't believe I was standing in my kitchen with my brother, plotting out a way to find a pack of werewolves to protect them from assassins who were trying to kill them because of a supernatural hit list being copied out of people's printers around Beacon Hills.

It was a crazy reality to accept.

"Do you mind keeping an eye on him for a little while?" Scott asked in a hushed tone, nodding in Liam's direction as Derek and Braeden left.

Instead of telling Scott I was already planning on it, I nodded in a reassuring manner. I didn't need Scott worrying about Liam—I was doing that enough for the both of us.

As my brother disappeared upstairs, I turned and walked quietly into the living room, fidgeting nervously with the hem of my skirt as I slowly approached Liam, who was leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. I carefully lowered myself down onto the couch beside him and both of us simply sat in silence for a few moments, staring across the room at nothing.

Glancing over at him, I bit the inside of my cheek as I tried to work out how I wanted to start this particular conversation. I could sense something was wrong with him—something greater than the deadpool and the assassins.

"Liam," I said in a soft voice, causing him to turn his head slightly and look back at me from the corner of his eye. "Do you want to tell me what's wrong?"

Liam shifted his gaze away from me. "There's nothing to tell," he mumbled. "I'm fine."

"You're not," I argued, though I kept my tone gentle as I scooted forward so I could get a better view of his face. "I know something's brothering you—something more than just the deadpool. It's never a good idea to keep things bottled inside, trust me."

"I do trust you, Joey," Liam told me, his bright blue eyes finally meeting mine.

"Then let me help you," I responded as I gently slipped my hand into his, letting both of ours rest on his knee.

Liam's grip tightened the tiniest bit as he released a deep breath. He had just opened his mouth to say something when Scott came bounding down the stairs, startling both of us.

"Kira found Brett. They're fine, but we have to go," he explained, handing Liam a helmet before continuing toward the kitchen door.

Liam and I shared a glance before we both pushed up from the couch to follow after Scott.

"More assassins?" Liam questioned, clearly unsettled by the possibility of going up against more people trying to kill him.

"Maybe a lot more," Scott answered.

"Different than the ones who just tried to set us on fire?" Liam asked next, stopping near the kitchen table with me beside him.

"I think so, yeah," Scott said simply as he opened the door.

My eyes flickered from him to Liam, who wore a hesitant expression and wasn't making any effort to move from where he was standing. Scott seemed to notice this, as he turned and watched Liam carefully set the helmet down on the table in front of him. The determined look in my brother's eye softened slightly as he closed the door, slowly walking over to Liam.

Scott pushed the helmet aside, offering his beta a small smile. "How about you and Joey stay here?"

"I'm not like you," Liam stated, steering the conversation in another direction.

"Not yet," Scott amended.

"I don't mean I'm not strong, or I'm ever going to learn how to be in control," Liam continued. "I mean everything else. You and Joey and all of your friends—you try to protect everyone. Have you been doing this the whole time? I-I mean, how are you all still alive?"

I felt myself bristle at his question, a pained ache in my heart as I remembered Erica, Boyd, Aiden, and of course, Allison. My friends who had been pushed into this supernatural world, their lives turned upside down by danger and having no idea what was to come—that possessing supernatural abilities came with unforeseeable consequences. None of them deserved the ending they were given.

I watched an unreadable expression spread over Scott's face as he lowered his eyes to the floor for a moment.

"Not all of us are," he said in a quiet voice. Liam seemed to realize his mistake as understanding flooded into his expression, but before he could say something, Scott cleared his throat. "I, um, I have to get going," he told them. "Are you guys going to be okay here by yourselves?"

"We'll be fine," I assured in a whisper, while Liam gave a half-hearted nod, not seeming to be able to meet my brother's eyes.

Scott flickered one last glance between us before he grabbed the keys to his motorbike from the hook on the wall and hastily made his way out the kitchen door.

"I'm sorry," Liam said the moment the door closed behind Scott. "I-I forgot about . . ."

I shook my head in dismissal of his apology. He obviously had a lot on his mind and I wasn't going to blame him for not being able to keep track of everything that had happened since Scott turned him.

"Can I show you something?" I asked, my voice filled with hesitance.

"Sure," Liam answered softly, a corner of his mouth tugging up the tiniest bit.

I offered a small smile in return as I held my hand out to him. Liam took my hand, intertwining our fingers in a way that made me feel safe and warm—like I was truly at home. I didn't say more as I began leading him in the direction of the stairs and up to the second floor of the house, toward my bedroom.

Once inside, I dropped his hand and headed over to my nightstand. A shaky breath left my lips as I wrapped my fingers around the handle of the top drawer, my heartbeat starting to accelerate. I paused for a moment, contemplating whether or not I was really ready to do this, before quickly deciding I didn't have any more time to contemplate. My friends and family need me _now_.

Without further hesitation, I slid open the drawer, my eyes falling on the black case with _Argent_ engraved on the front in cursive lettering. Ignoring the Polaroid pictures of me and Allison scattered below it, I picked up the case and set it on my bed.

Liam lingered near the doorway, watching me with furrowed eyebrows as I crouched down and reached underneath my bed. I pulled out a much bigger case, and he instantly walked over to me, helping me place it on top of my bed beside the other smaller case.

"What does that name mean?" Liam questioned in curiosity, gesturing toward the engraving.

"It's Allison's last name," I told him, glancing at him once before I flipped the locks on the small case and lifted the lid, revealing an array of arrows, bullets, Japanese ring daggers, knives, and an assortment of other weapons. Too scared to look at Liam's reaction, I focused my attention on opening the bigger case, where a bow rested inside. I swallowed nervously and let my eyes flicker to him. "It's also the French word for silver," I decided to inform.

"Joey," Liam began with an uncertain expression, seemingly at a loss for words as his wide eyes glided over all the equipment laid out in front of us.

"Allison wasn't just Scott's first love," I told him in explanation, my voice quiet. "She was a hunter—along with her father, Chris."

"Like, werewolf hunters?" Liam questioned with a raised eyebrow, glancing uneasily at the silver bullets.

I nodded slowly.

"Scott—a _werewolf_—was in love . . . with a werewolf _hunter_?"

"Yeah, it was sort of a complicated situation," I responded.

"I don't understand." Liam shook his head as he looked at me. "Why are you telling me this?"

I took a deep breath, preparing myself for what I was about to say. "Because I'm going to help Scott protect Brett and his pack."

Liam frowned, a look of apprehension spreading across his face. "Joey—"

"Allison was a perfect shot," I interrupted, knowing he was going to try and talk me out of my decision. "And although werewolf hunting isn't in my blood, she taught me everything her father had taught her. This is something I need to do."

"Why?" Liam asked quietly.

"The hunters, they go by a code, but Allison and her father had their own," I explained. "_N__ous protégons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se proteger eux-mêmes, _otherwise known as 'we protect those who cannot protect themselves'."

Liam's eyebrows furrowed. "You don't know what you're going up against," he told me. "And I definitely don't like the idea of you risking your life for someone like Brett."

I bit the inside of my cheek for a moment before letting out a defeated sigh. "I'm not just doing it because of the code," I whispered, causing Liam to stare at me as he listened intently. "Something's . . . been going on with me, Liam. That night on the hospital roof, w-with the Berserker, I-I had a panic attack . . . I had a panic attack because I saw flashbacks of Allison's death. What happened to her haunts me. The exact moment she died plays on a loop in my mind. Constantly. I haven't slept in days and I feel like I'm losing my freaking mind."

"Joey, breathe," Liam instructed softly, placing his hands on my shoulders and forcing me to look into his crystal blue eyes. His eyes were so calming and uncomplicated—no flecks or mixes of other colors, just a clear shade of endless blue.

"I'm scared, Liam," I admitted after a beat of silence, giving a faint shrug. "I'm scared that we aren't going to survive—that we won't be sophomores next year, that Scott and everyone else won't be seniors. I'm scared this world is going to kill us before we even get the chance to really live. _That's _why I have to honor the Argent's code. As cliché as it sounds, I have to face my fears to come out stronger. And maybe, _just_ maybe, the flashbacks and the nightmares will stop for good."

Liam looked thoughtful as he searched my eyes, like he wasn't just thinking about what I said in regard to what _I_ was afraid of, but maybe how my words applied to him and his own fears. "Okay," he eventually said. "I told you I trust you, Joey, and you're one of the few people I've ever said those words to in my life. You're the most brave, beautiful, intelligent, compassionate person I've ever met and I _trust_ you, so if you say this is something you have to do . . . then I support that."

I stared at him with wide eyes, my cheeks burning. No one had ever said something like that to me before. "Liam, I—"

He pushed his lips onto mine in a heartbeat, cutting me off. He seemed to like doing that (not that I was complaining). Liam's hands tangled in my hair as he kissed me hungrily, sucking the air right out of my lungs.

Liam pulled away with a small smirk on his face. "I'll be here when you get back."

"Maybe not _here_, specifically," I told him, gesturing around my bedroom. "Scott might get the wrong idea once we come home."

A soft blush colored Liam's cheeks. "Right, yeah." He nodded in a flustered manner, causing a little smile to pull at my lips. "I'll, um, be d-downstairs."

I watched as he ran a hand through his hair and headed across the room, casting me a lingering glance before he left, closing the door behind him.

I took deep breath—_I could do this_. Allison taught me how to shoot a bow, how to defend myself even without weapons, and _Allison _wouldn't have hesitated to help Scott if he needed it, so I would do the same.

I walked over to my dresser, standing in front of the mirror as I pulled my dark chocolate waves into a side braid. Then I slid open my drawers, searching for a fresh outfit. I slipped on a black sweater, black skinny jeans, and black riding boots that laced up the front. To complete the look, I headed over to my nightstand and pulled out the fingerless glove Allison always wore whenever she shot her bow—the same glove she was wearing the night she died.

I just needed a piece of her with me.

I pulled on the glove and took Allison's bow from the case before slinging a bag of silver-headed arrows over my shoulder.

I was ready.

x

**A/N:** Okay, so I really wanted to fit "Monstrous" into one chapter, but the Jiam scenes went a little longer than I intended, and the chapter would have just been way too long and drawn out, so next chapter you'll get to see Joey act on all those skills Allison taught her. Also, we'll get to see more Brett, which is always a plus, right? :) I know some authors of Liam stories who don't have their main girl character in the fighting scenes at all, but it's essential for Joey's character development (there will also be Liam at the end), so yeah.

**On another note**, I wanted to ask you guys if you would be interested in reading a sequel to this story that would follow season five. I already have two possible names for the title (I'm still deciding which I like better), I just want to know if you'd like to continue reading about Joey and Liam into season five. So, let me know!

To end this, I'd just like to appreciate all of you that read, follow, favorite, and review! I absolutely love reading reviews from you guys and taking your suggestions into consideration. Out of all the stories I've written, this has been my favorite (Dylan Sprayberry may be the cause of that, but whatever), and you guys have made it an even better experience, so keep it up! :)


	16. Protect Your Pack

chapter sixteen:  
_protect your pack_

* * *

"Are you sure you want to be a part of all this?" Chris questioned for the third time in about ten minutes, tearing his eyes from the road to glance over at me with a concerned fatherly expression, his hand gripping the steering wheel like he was prepared to turn the car around and drive me back home any second.

I released a small, shaky breath as my gaze flickered down to the bow resting on my lap. My hands instinctively tightened around it—to the point where my knuckles turned white—as I thought about everything that had happened over the last two months, how my life had managed to change so quickly and so drastically within the short span of time. Allison's death, Isaac leaving town, an ill organized road trip to Mexico in order to save a teenaged Derek, the Hale bonds being stolen, Liam (I couldn't even begin to sort through _that_ mess right now), the deadpool, the assassins; an endless string of supernatural occurrences constantly pushing my life this way and that, while I just stood on the sidelines, watching as it all happened.

I didn't want to sit on the sidelines any longer, I wanted to join the game. I wanted to help my friends and protect them as much as they had protected me over the past two years. This was_ my _life and I wasn't going to allow the supernatural world to determine how it turned out.

Drawing my eyes away from the bow in front of me, I sighed as I looked over at Chris. "My brother is an alpha werewolf, my first kiss was with his beta, and my best friends consist of a kitsune, a banshee, and a were-coyote," I told him. "I think I'm already a part of all this, Chris."

"But it's okay if you don't want to be," he replied in his gruff voice, the headlights from passing cars illuminating his face now and then. "You're not obligated to help, Joey."

I considered his words, turning my gaze to the passenger seat window as I thought about my brother and Allison. Both of them were the two most selfless people I'd ever known. Though it ran in her family, Allison hadn't been obligated to learn the ways of a hunter and use her skills to protect her friends, but she did anyway. Though my brother was forced into this world by a consequence of being bitten by Peter, Scott had never been _obligated_ to take on the responsibility he has and use his abilities to save lives, _but he did anyway_. In the end, both of them _chose_ to be a part of all this, _chose_ to protect their friends, _chose_ to save the people of Beacon Hills, and I was now going to do the same.

For the first time since Scott was turned into a werewolf, I was _choosing_ to put my life on the line instead of someone else threatening to. I was honoring my lost friends, honoring all the times Scott and Allison had protected me, honoring the code.

"I'm not changing my mind," I murmured decisively.

"I've watched you grow up a lot in the past year, Joey," Chris told me, causing my eyes to flicker back to him. "You've taken on more than someone your age should have to and you've handled it with more strength than I ever expected. I'm proud of you."

Chris sent me a small smile, causing a tiny smile of my own pull at my lips, a kind of unspoken thanks to him. He was the closest thing to a father I'd ever had and I was grateful to have him.

Things were quiet for the next few moments as I resumed staring out the window. I expected to see a blur of trees begin to surround us as we headed to the outskirts of Beacon Hills toward the preserve, but I felt myself grow confused as the car drove farther into the depths of downtown.

"Where are we going?" I questioned curiously. "I thought we were meeting Derek and Braeden."

"We are," Chris assured with a firm nod. "I just need to drop something off at the warehouse first."

Though he was being characteristically cryptic, I understood what he was talking about, so I didn't protest or bother to ask him additional questions.

After sitting through a few stoplights and hitting some rough traffic spots, Chris eventually pulled his Toyota 4Runner to a stop outside the abandoned building he had bought a couple months ago to keep his weapons safe. Exiting the car, I lingered by my door, watching as Chris pulled his gun and a duffle bag from the backseat.

"Come on," he said, gesturing toward the warehouse.

I followed him inside, carrying my bow at my side with an arrow at the ready, just in case. I knew you could never be too careful in a town like Beacon Hills, especially with a deadpool floating around and everyone suddenly turning into assassinating versions of the karate kid.

Chris set the duffle bag on the dusty floor and knelt down before a small safe hidden in a section of the wall while I stood guard, my eyes flickering in all directions, keeping watch for some form of potential threat. The warehouse was the perfect ominous location for something bad to happen. It was a mess of construction, with dim lighting and plastic sheets hanging from the ceiling, obscuring certain things from view.

As my gaze wandered to the papers scattered across the floor, my pulse quickened as I noticed a trail of wet footprints that looked fairly fresh. I felt my eyebrows furrow in concentration as I carefully followed the path, poising my bow in front of me as I wandered closer to the archway that lead into another room of the warehouse.

The bow was suddenly knocked from my hands, and as I glanced up from where the weapon had crashed to the floor, I gasped in fright at the sight of Brett standing over me, his fangs bared in a lethal snarl.

Chris was beside me in less than half a second, aiming his silver gun at the tall werewolf.

"Brett, wait!" Scott exclaimed, rushing into the room with Satomi's pack flooding in behind him. "Don't hurt her!"

Brett's expression instantly softened as he seemed to register just who was standing in front of him, his green eyes roaming over my terrified features.

I heard Chris click the safety off on his gun, prepared to protect me at any cost, causing Brett's defenses to go back up as he growled at him.

"Wait! Wait, Brett!" Scott shouted once more. "This is his place—it's his."

Brett still looked unsure as his eyes flickered between me and Chris.

"Brett," I said softly. "It's okay."

To my surprise, he backed off, his fangs receding as he headed over to stand next to a small blonde girl I assumed was his sister, Lori.

I sighed in relief and knelt down to retrieve my bow from the floor.

"Are you okay?" Scott asked as I stood back up, placing a concerned hand on the side of my face as he searched for any visible injuries.

I nodded, giving him a reassuring tilt of my lips.

"Scott," Chris spoke then, drawing my brother's attention. "If you're bringing guests, you could have called."

"I . . . didn't have anywhere else to take them," Scott responded in a low voice, his eyes moving over the faces of Satomi's pack.

I gazed at them too, feeling myself become sympathetic toward them. They all looked dirty and broken, the scared glimmer in their eyes reminding me of Liam. I jolted at the realization that I missed him, even though I'd just been with him less than forty minutes ago.

"I know this man," Satomi stated suddenly as she stepped forward, closer to Chris, who stared back at her with an expression that was a cross between confused and intrigued. "You may not remember, but we've met before."

"You can trust him," I assured her in a quiet voice.

Scott nodded in agreement. "We trust him."

"How do we know he's not like the others?" Satomi questioned, casting Chris a skeptical glance.

Chris arched a brow at her. "What others?"

"Last night, there was a whole team after them," Kira answered as she pulled a shiny object from the pocket of her jean jacket—a broken half of an arrow—and handed it to Chris. "And they used crossbows."

I felt dread wash over me as I looked at the silver arrowhead and saw an eagle, the unique crest of another family of hunters. Chris met my eyes, shooting me a knowing glance, meaning we came to the same conclusion.

"They're hunters, aren't they?" Scott inquired, noticing the look we shared.

"Not if they're killing for profit," Chris told him. "Not anymore."

Brett took a step forward. "Can they find us?"

"They might already know you're here," Chris answered. "And maybe they're waiting for dark."

"So we're not safe here?" Kira turned to Scott, sound more anxious by the second.

I shook my head as the reality of what was happening set in. "We're not safe anywhere," I muttered, causing Brett to glance at me. I met his eyes only for a moment before purposely putting my gaze elsewhere.

"We've been trying to get out for days," Satomi said. "Everywhere we turn . . . we find someone new trying to kill us."

"They're coming, Scott," Chris lowered his voice as he stepped closer to him. "And they're coming for you, too. You're still number one on the deadpool."

"I know," Scott replied in understanding, his eyes briefly flickering to me as I stared at him with a worried expression. "Lydia can get the answer from Meredith—she just needs more time."

"Then that's what she'll get."

* * *

Hours upon hours ticked by, time seeming to pass at a much slower, suspenseful rate as the sun drifted below the horizon and the sky gradually darkened to a midnight black. I stood at a rickety table near the dusty windows of the warehouse, cleaning my arrows as I watched the moon rise in the sky, casting a soft glow over Beacon Hills.

Everyone seemed to be in their own worlds as they prepared for the imminent threat that nightfall would bring, engaging in menial tasks to distract themselves from what they knew was coming. Chris was wandering around with one of his many machine guns, placing some sort of security sensors on different walls of the warehouse. Braeden was loading her shotgun and Kira was fiddling with her katana, while Scott and Derek were keeping an eye on Satomi's pack, who were all huddled close together on the other side of the room.

I felt the tension circulating the room—the anticipation and the fear. The familiar feeling of anxiety was building up inside me, my stomach knotting with unease. I hadn't even noticed my hands had started to tremble until the cloth I was using to clean an arrow slipped from my grasp when I went to wipe at the head, causing me to accidently slice my finger on the sharp edge and hiss in pain.

"Careful," Brett murmured, startling me as he came up beside me. He smirked in amusement and I gave him a mild glare in disapproval as I cradled my finger. "Let me," he offered as he gently took hold of my hand in both of his. I felt heat rise on my cheeks as I watched black veins travel up Brett's hand, disappearing under his jacket.

I released a breath I wasn't aware I was holding once the stinging in my finger subsided. "Thank you," I told him in quiet voice, drawing my hand from his grasp.

He nodded, his eyes roaming over my face, and I had to look away, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear as I resumed cleaning my arrows. The way Brett looked at me, it was like I was transparent and he could see right through me, like he could read every one of my emotions—which, now that I thought about it, he probably could by smelling my chemo signals—but that was besides the point.

"I didn't know you were a hunter," Brett commented as he placed his palms on the table and leaned against it, his arm brushing mine.

Why did he always insist on invading my personal space?

"I, um, I'm not." I shook my head, casting a brief glance up at him. "Not really. I just know how to shoot a bow and utilize some pretty basic defense mechanisms."

"Have you ever used a weapon against a werewolf?"

"Once," I answered, remembering the time Allison and I had shot at the twins outside the hospital the night we were helping Jennifer escape. I had managed to nick Aiden on the arm while Allison had hit Ethan and Kali.

In my peripheral vision, Brett shrugged his broad shoulders. "Sounds like a hunter to me."

I looked at him then, my eyes narrowing slightly as I tried to decipher what I heard in his tone. I wasn't sure if he was encouraging me or judging me. I was about to ask him for clarification on what he meant, but stopped myself when I overheard a fragment of the conversation Derek, Braeden, Kira, and my brother were having a few feet away.

"Scott, have you heard anything from Stiles or Lydia yet?" Braeden was asking.

"Lydia's still taking to Meredith, Stiles and Malia are heading to the lake house," my brother replied. "They're trying to stop it."

"What if there is no stopping it?" Brett called from beside me, drawing the group's attention toward us. Apparently, he'd been listening with me. "What if it doesn't end until we're all dead?"

Silence encased the room for a moment as everyone considered his words, glancing around at each other somberly, searching for someone to give answers. Brett had opened up a new possibility, one we were all trying to avoid thinking about by pushing it to the furthest depths of our minds. However, we couldn't ignore the fact that maybe we couldn't stop it. Just because we might survive tonight didn't mean we would survive the next.

What if we were finally facing something we couldn't beat?

"Then let's send a message," Derek declared, his voice cutting through the silence and drawing the attention of everyone in the room. "Let's make tonight perfectly clear to anyone with a copy of that list." He began to take a few steps back, his tone becoming more determined as he addressed everyone. He was a natural leader, someone who could inspire confidence, someone you looked up to and the quality sparkled as we all listened. "It doesn't matter if they're professional assassins, hunters, or an amateur that just picked up a gun. Anyone who thinks they can hunt and kill us for money is going to be put on another list—_our_ list. They get to be a name on our deadpool."

Braeden cocked her gun in the official declaration of Derek's speech. I could feel the atmosphere in the room lift with hope and resolve. His words had somehow tied us together and sparked a hidden strength within all of us. We were done running—done hiding. We would fight for our lives tonight.

Suddenly, the security sensors began to beep. Everyone seemed to tense as the loud sound continued to echo throughout the room.

"They're coming," Chris stated, his voice grave.

Ignoring the way my heart began to pound and the panic clawing up my throat, I grabbed my bow, swiftly loading an arrow onto the string as every pair of eyes in the room stared in the direction of the entrance.

"Everyone get back!" Braeden shouted as two cylinder-shaped objects sailed through the air.

I found myself being yanked to the ground by Brett as the objects clattered to the floor, sparking once before exploding with smoke, making the air in the warehouse white and hazy. I laid on my stomach beside Brett, trying to squint my eyes and see through the shield of smoke as continuous gunshots rang out. The sound of bullets thundering off the walls were mixing in with terrified screams and I felt like I was a little kid hiding under my bed, just listening to the chaos unfold.

On the other side of the warehouse, I caught a glimpse of Kira, her sword whipping in all directions as she fought off a pair of gunmen. Without much thought, I secured my grip on my bow and pushed to my feet.

"Joey, what the hell are you doing?" Brett hissed, his eyes flashing gold as he grabbed for my wrist.

"Don't worry about me," I told him. "Go find your sister and protect your pack. I have to go protect mine."

I headed straight for Kira, stopping a few feet away and arming my bow in front of me as I aimed at the hand of one of the assassins.

"_N__ous protégons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se proteger eux-mêmes_," I whispered, before pulling back on the string and releasing the arrow.

My mouth nearly fell open as it pierced right through the gunman's hand, causing him to cry out in pain as his machine gun slipped from his grasp and dropped to the ground. Kira kicked the other into a rack of construction tools and then immediately spun around, slashing her sword across the chest of the one I had shot.

"Nice," Kira breathed with a smile, giving me an approving nod. "Let's go."

Kira sliced through the plastic sheet in front of us and we shared a glance before splitting in opposite directions.

I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do, what direction I was supposed to go in, who I was supposed to help first. Shouts and screams and gunfire was all I could hear and it was a deafening sound—almost disorienting. My head started to pound and I could sense a familiar feeling starting to set in as my heart raced.

"_Breathe," _Liam's soothing voice echoed softly in my mind. I calmed myself down as I imagined him gently cupping my face in his hands and forcing me to look into his blue eyes—a pure, crystal blue.

Then my thoughts were clear and I was alert once more.

"Brett," I heard a faint, barely there voice call. "Brett, where are you?"

I spun on the heels of my boots, frantically searching for the source of the voice.

The haze of smoke in front of me cleared just a bit, enough for me to catch sight of an assassin pointing their gun at Lori's head, causing my eyes to widen. I acted on instinct, instantly pulling up my bow and pausing a moment to accurately aim before shooting an arrow at the man's neck.

I hadn't taken into consideration the fact that he was wearing protective gear, and my heart stuttered in fear as the arrow bounced off the protective padding, drawing the assassin's attention in my direction.

However, before the masked man could even manage to raise his gun at me, Scott streaked in from the side, knocking the assassin the floor.

Snapping into action, I scrambled over to Lori and wrapped a hand around her elbow, pulling her to safety behind the nearest column. The smaller girl clutched onto me and I just hugged her back, watching with wide eyes as my brother slammed the assassin on top of a table. Scott then whipped off the man's helmet and began to tear into his chest with his claws.

I felt something dark settle in my bones as Scott's face transformed, his features turning shadowy and more animal like as growls rumbled in his throat. The white around his red eyes turned black, making the alpha glow of his irises more prominent and I was suddenly terrified as my brother slashed mercilessly into the assassin, drawing blood from his mouth.

Then I knew why I felt afraid—the realization hit me like a freight train.

Peter.

I didn't see my brother—the socially awkward sophomore from a year ago who was just trying to play on the lacrosse team and keep his life together—I saw Peter, an overwhelmingly frightening, _monstrous_ resemblance to _Peter_.

All of a sudden, the gunfire ceased. The assassins abruptly stopped their violent attack and retreated into the wisps of the shadows. I glanced back to Scott, whose distorted features had returned to normal, causing me to blink a few times as I attempted to collect my bearings. Whatever I had seen surely must have been the work of my imagination and the chemicals of the smoke grenades.

Slowing coming out from behind the column I was hiding behind, I migrated to my brother's side, watching as everyone began to put themselves back together. Lori headed over to Brett, Chris leaned against the nearest wall as he caught his breath, Derek and Braeden appeared from behind a veil of plastic along with Kira, who joined me and Scott.

"Is it over?" I asked, my voice small and tentative.

"Really over?" Kira added as she worriedly glanced between me and Scott.

Instead of answering, Scott pulled a phone from his pocket and handed the device over to me.

Kira leaned toward me as we both read the message displayed on the screen.

**THE BENEFACTOR: ALL CONTRACTS TERMINATED**.

x

**A/N:** Guys, how freaking awesome was Teen Wolf this week? I was legitimately _screaming _throughout the entire thing because it was just THAT good. We had Stydia, more character development for Malia, evil/good Theo (I am so torn over him, honestly), Kira and her foxfire, Scott confessing his love in an adorably awkward way, Brett protecting Mason, Liam looking fine as hell in a leather jacket and body-slamming a human scorpion. It was just intense and I'm still on a high from it.

Anyway, I know this chapter was seriously lacking Jiam, but it was a necessary chapter for Joey. I want her to be her own character outside of just being Liam's love interest. I also want her to be believable, like you actually feel like she's a part of Teen Wolf, which is why I include all these moments of her with the rest of the pack and not just with Liam (though I definitely prefer writing those more).

But don't worry, there will be lots of Liam next chapter! Joey has herself sorted out now, so she's better equipped to help Liam with the problems he's experiencing and I'm really excited to write it.

Thank you guys so much for over 400 favorites, almost 600 follows (freaking _wow_), and nearly 300 reviews. This is crazy and I just appreciate it so much! I absolutely love you guys and I appreciate all the feedback you've been giving me on this story!

Let me know what you thought of this chapter and I'll be sure to have the next one uploaded ASAP.

Okay, now continue to freak out about Teen Wolf and love Liam "_I'm his flight attendant_" Dunbar with all your heart!


	17. Fair Share

chapter seventeen:  
_fair share_

* * *

Sitting at my desk with my chin perched in my palm, I flipped mindlessly through the history notes scattered in front of me, trying and failing to focus on studying. I had an extensive chapter exam tomorrow—the test would count for ten percent of my overall grade for the semester—and with my grade point average slowly beginning to decline due to my inability to appropriately balance the supernatural world with my schoolwork, I knew I really needed to concentrate at the moment.

Though I was no natural genius like Lydia, I still prided myself on being a decent student and getting good grades every marking period. However, keeping up with school had become progressively harder since Scott was bitten. There were always distractions—whether it was evil spirts and demonic ninjas or a deadpool and assassins—there was always a supernatural _something _occupying all of my time; enemies that needed to be fought off and friends who had to be saved.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the case tonight. There was no more deadpool and there were no more assassins, but I still found the depths of my mind circulating with worried thoughts of a certain young werewolf with pretty blue eyes.

Once Scott and I had made our way home after the events at the warehouse, Scott immediately headed upstairs to shower while I went into the living room, where I stumbled across Liam, who was sleeping soundly on the couch. As I stood in the archway of the room, admiring the angelic way he slept, my lips had tugged into a fond smile. Still wearing his lacrosse jersey, Liam was laying on his side with his arms loosely crossed over his chest, a peaceful expression on his face.

I had never seen him look so at ease before, and as much as I wanted to talk to him, I remembered what Mason had told me, how Liam looked like he hadn't slept in days. After that small revelation, I'd started to notice the signs—the hint of dark circles under his eyes, the irritability and anxiousness, the constant fidgeting—so instead of waking him, I simply grabbed one of the nearby blankets and draped it over him before going upstairs to my room for the night.

I had intended to talk with him the next morning, but when I came downstairs, he was no longer there.

I spent the entirety of my Saturday trying to distract myself and fight off the urge to contact him by watching movies with Malia, who had eventually just ended up taking my phone altogether. Sunday rolled around, but Malia had made plans with Stiles, and not wanting to intrude on their date (or whatever they did), I stayed home. With Lydia at the lake house all weekend—apparently Stiles and Malia had made quite the mess up there—and Kira out of town with her mother, I was left on my own.

In consequence, here I was at eight o'clock, trying to cram for a history test with my thoughts spinning around Liam, while thunder rumbled in the distance and lightning streaked the dark sky outside my window.

My eyes flickered from my notes to my cell phone for the fourth time in ten minutes as I mentally debated whether or not I should just call him and see how he was holding up after everything that had happened over the last couple of days.

Before I could decide, a knock sounded on my doorframe and I spun around in my desk chair to see Scott leaning in the entryway of my bedroom, his motorbike helmet in his hands.

"Hey, uh, I picked up an extra shift at the animal clinic and I just wanted to let you know I'm taking off," he told me, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder in the general direction of the stairs. "Mom's still at the hospital, but she should be back within the hour."

I nodded despondently, my eyes drifting from his. "Okay," I said softly as my gaze settled on the dark screen of my phone.

I hadn't meant to sound so sullen, but my melancholy mood was affecting me more than I realized.

"Joey," Scott began in a quiet voice, walking closer to me and setting his helmet on my desk. "Are you okay?"

I looked up at him with a small sigh. "No, not really."

My brother knelt down to be more level with me, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. "What's going on?"

Instead of automatically saying "nothing, I'm okay" as I usually tended to do in these types of situations because I hated burdening others with my problems, I remained silent for several seconds as I thought about how I wanted to answer his question. I mean, where did I begin? There were about a million things _wrong_, but at the moment, I could only seem to think about a pair of blue eyes.

My expression became pensive as I returned my eyes to Scott, who was staring at me patiently, waiting for me to uncomplicate my thoughts enough to speak. "How do you help someone who doesn't want to help themselves?" I whispered.

Understanding spread across my brother's face as he seemed to know who I was referring to, even without me saying it.

My phone vibrated against the wood of my desk before Scott could find the right words to respond, startling me. I cast a glance at my brother before reaching over for the device. I automatically felt my heart start to pound a bit faster, my stomach becoming tingly with butterflies as my eyes fell on Liam's name.

Unlocking my screen, I read over his message—he was asking if I wanted to come over.

"I think you got your answer," Scott stated, looking at me knowingly with a hint of a smile on his face. I felt a soft blush warm my cheeks as I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, but ultimately found my lips pulling into a small smile too. "Why don't I take you?"

I hesitated a moment before nodding in acceptance of his offer, pushing up from my chair. Heading over to my closet, I grabbed my favorite leather jacket and a cream scarf (because surely it was going to rain soon) before following Scott downstairs.

* * *

Scott's motocross rumbled to a stop in front of Liam's house, sending my nerves into overdrive. My heart was pounding at an erratic rate and my legs shook a little as I quickly climbed off my brother's bike. Taking off my helmet, I nervously ran a hand through my hair and released a shaky breath. I wasn't sure whether the ride over was the cause of my sudden anxiousness or if it was just the fact that in a few moments I was actually going to be inside Liam's home—his most personal space.

"Jo," Scott said with an amused smile, retrieving the helmet from my hands. "Just breathe for a minute. You'll be fine, okay?"

Though I didn't believe that for a second, I gave a reluctant nod. "Okay."

"I'll be back to pick you up after work," Scott told me, and with another nod, I watched as he started up his bike, shooting me a cheery thumbs-up before speeding off down the road.

With a sigh, I turned and slowly walked along the flower-lined stone path leading up to the porch of Liam's house. I climbed the stairs with timid movements—fidgeting with my clothes and biting the inside of my cheek.

Taking a deep breath, I raised my arm, my hand clenched into a fist. I had to stifle a surprised yelp when the door was pulled open before I had the chance to knock and Liam was suddenly standing in front of me in a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants, his light brown hair tousled and messy as ever.

His lips lifted into a small smirk as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned in the doorway. "Hey, Joey," he said softly.

"H-Hi," I stuttered.

Liam's smirk stretched into a lazy grin. "Do you want to come in?" I was too caught up in how the moonlight was illuminating the blue color of his eyes for my mind to concentrate on anything he was saying. "Joey?"

"Oh, right—sure," I said quickly once I realized I hadn't responded. Liam only seemed to grow more amused as he stepped back and opened the door wider for me to step through. My cheeks warmed and I looked down, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear as I walked into his foyer. Pulling my scarf from around my neck, my eyes wandered around for a moment. His house was spacious, neat, and very expensive in appearance. Beyond the foyer, the living room and kitchen were dark, causing me to frown as I turned to face Liam, who was just closing the door. "Are you here by yourself?"

Liam nodded. "My stepdad's still at the hospital and my mom just left for a last minute meeting at work. She's a paralegal at the law firm downtown," he explained.

I felt my frown deepen. Was he always on his own like this?

Liam seemed to know what I was thinking and a small smile spread across his face, reassuring me without words that he was okay with his situation. "Come on," he told me softly, reaching for my hand and gently intertwining his fingers with mine before gesturing toward the stairs.

My heart started thrumming even faster than it had while I was riding with Scott on his motorbike as I was suddenly acutely aware that Liam was taking me up to his bedroom. "So"—I swallowed hard—"we're alone?"

Instead of responding, Liam glanced over his shoulder at me with a wicked little grin that had my stomach doing flips.

Oh, God. I was in way over my head with this boy.

Once we reached the second floor of the house, Liam pulled me down the hallway and opened the last door on the right, leading me into his dimly lit bedroom. Before I had the chance to look around, Liam turned and reached behind me to shut the door. Then, in less time than it took me to blink, Liam had me pinned against it, his arms on either side of me and his lips within inches of mine.

His eyes flicked up from my mouth to meet my gaze and—oh, _wow_. They were really, _really_ blue tonight.

"L-Liam," I stammered, but before I could finish my thought, he pressed his lips onto mine.

He brought one of his hands to the small of my back to guide my body in against his as he tilted his head slightly and deepened the kiss.

I tried to move my lips with his, but fear and worry were spreading through me so fast I felt paralyzed all of a sudden. I didn't know where Liam was going with his and it scared me, making me feel all the more pathetic for my lack of romantic experience.

Breaking the kiss, Liam gently pressed his lips to my jaw, sending a shiver through me. "Relax, Joey," he murmured, pulling away to look at me. Bringing a hand up to cup my face, he brushed his thumb against my cheek. "Nothing has to happen if you don't want it to, you know that, right?"

I nodded, releasing a small, nervous breath. Then a thought struck me. "But . . . something _has_ happened before? With you?" I asked hesitantly.

Liam momentarily glanced away from me, running a hand through his hair. "Not . . . everything," he admitted, his cheeks slowly beginning to burn with color. "Just, some things."

"Oh," was all I could say, my gaze drifting to the floor. I didn't know why I was so disappointed with his answer when I had expected it. Liam was ridiculously good looking and a star athlete—_of course_ he would have been with other girls before me, whether it was an official relationship or not.

"Hey, Joey." Liam tilted my chin up, forcing our eyes to lock. "It doesn't matter, okay? Nothing I did before Scott bit me matters now because I'm not the same person I was before."

"Do you miss it?" I questioned gently.

Liam furrowed his eyebrows, not entirely sure of what I was asking. "Miss what?"

"The way things were," I answered. "The way _you _were before Scott turned you."

He seemed at a loss for words, but before anything else could be said between us, Liam's bedroom door opened unexpectedly from behind me. Liam instinctively reached out to grab my waist to prevent me from stumbling backward and I quickly pressed my hands to his chest to keep myself balanced as I stumbled into him.

"Woah." Both of us looked over to see Mason standing in the doorway, his brown eyes slightly wide. I watched as he slowly recovered from his surprise and a hint of a smirk tugged at his lips. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No, Hewitt." Liam laughed light-heartedly at his best friend, while I blushed like an idiot and gently untangled myself from him.

"Good, Dunbar," Mason responded, holding up a video game. "Because I'm ready to kick your ass in some Call of Duty." As he crossed Liam's room over to the TV set, he glanced at me. "Joey, do you want to play?"

"No, I'm okay," I assured him. "I tried playing with Scott and Stiles once—it didn't really end well for me."

"Are you sure?" Liam asked, biting his lip as his brow creased in worry.

"I'm sure, Liam," I promised with a small smile. "I should actually probably study. My grade in history is sort of depending on how well I do on the test tomorrow."

"You and me both," Mason said as he sat down on the floor at the end of Liam's bed. "But the studying can wait."

"Agreed." Liam nodded, placing himself beside his best friend and grabbing a controller.

Shaking my head at the two, my lips lifting into a fond little smile, I settled myself on Liam's bed, laying down on my stomach and flipping open my history notes to the page where I left off back at my house.

Though I attempted to concentrate on my papers, being _with_ Liam was a hell of a lot more distracting then just thinking about him, and I constantly caught my gaze drifting to him throughout the night as he played different video games with Mason. I smiled as I watched him enjoy himself and act like an ordinary teenage boy having non-supernatural fun with his best friend.

Liam's animated character on the screen shot three rounds into Mason's, causing his character to fly backward and onto the ground as blood pooled on his shirt from the wounds inflicted.

Mason threw his hands up in defeat as the game returned to the home screen, signaling Liam had won the round. "When did you get so good?" he asked with an expression of exasperation. "Have you been practicing? Or did you just suddenly get superhuman reflexes?"

My eyes widened slightly at Mason's words, my gaze shooting nervously to Liam.

"Uh," Liam stalled, obviously taken off guard by the question as much as I was. "Practicing—yeah, I've been practicing."

"And I should be studying," Mason decided as he set his controller down, beginning to get to his feet.

"Where are you going?" Liam asked quickly.

"Home," Mason stated the obvious. "We have a history test tomorrow."

"Come on, one more game," Liam tried to persuade.

"Yeah, you said that four games ago," Mason reminded with a small laugh as he stood to leave.

"Study here—you can stay over; both of you," Liam said, his tone becoming more pleading as he glanced from me to his best friend. "Come on, one more game. Just one."

Mason stopped in the doorway, his eyebrows furrowed faintly. "Are you okay?"

Liam hesitated as he opened and closed his mouth, searching for a way to answer that question before he looked away from Mason altogether, shaking his head to himself. "Yeah, y-you know, you're right. You should go," Liam told him. "I-I should probably study, too."

Lingering in the doorway, Mason looked like he wanted to say more, glancing from Liam to me. With an expression of worry, I gave him a helpless shrug of my shoulders, telling him I didn't know what to do either.

"See you at school," Liam stated.

Mason frowned and released a small sigh as his eyes flickered back to me. "Joey, do you want my mom to take you home?"

"Um, I actually think I'm going to stay a little while," I responded with a small nod in Liam's direction, giving Mason a knowing look. "Scott's going to pick me up after work. Liam and I can just study here until then. I'm sure he won't be long."

Mason nodded, casting one last concerned glance at Liam—who refused to look up from the controller in his hands—before he disappeared down the hall and his footsteps sounded on the stairs.

I hesitated a moment in the silence between us before gently placing a hand on Liam's shoulder. "Liam, are you really okay?" I asked, my voice soft and a bit uncertain.

He turned his head to look at me. "Do you really want to study or are you just worried about me?" he countered with raised eyebrows, his tone challenging.

"Both," I admitted in a voice just above a whisper. I could sense the building tension in the room and I didn't want to spark an argument between us. Liam's expression slowly softened at my words, a small smile spreading across his face, causing a little one to pull at my lips in response. "Come on." I patted the space next to me. "We have a test to pass."

Liam released a sigh with a playful roll of his eyes and pushed up from the floor to head over to his desk, where he collected a few different papers into his hand. His gaze flickered to my scarf thrown over the back of his chair and his lips tugged up at the corners.

"What?" I questioned.

"It smells like you," Liam said, causing a soft blush to color my cheeks as I looked away from him.

Fortunately, he didn't say more as he walked over to the bed and threw himself down beside me.

"Okay, so where should we start?" I asked as I began to flip through my notes.

Liam stopped my movements by slipping his hand into mine, causing me to look over at him questioningly.

He wasn't looking at me though; he was staring across the room, a frozen look of panic on his face. I carefully followed his gaze, but there was only a bookshelf.

I furrowed my brows in confusion as my eyes flickered back to him. "Liam?" His breathing was becoming more labored by the second and I felt a sudden surge of worry go through me. "Liam, what's wrong?" He didn't respond as his gaze stayed locked in place, sweat forming at his hairline and his grip on my hand becoming so tight I was afraid the bones were going to break under the pressure. I winced in pain and tried to pull away from him. "Liam, you're hurting me."

Liam seemed to snap right out of his trance as he abruptly released my hand and scrambled off the bed, his chest rapidly rising and falling with each deep breath he took. Pushing myself up into a sitting position, I watched in concern as his eyes flashed gold for a moment.

"Liam," I began gently as he ran a hand through his hair, distress written all over his face. "What just happened?"

"N-Nothing, I-I'm fine," he stammered, turning away from me he faced the window, crossing his arms over his chest.

"That wasn't nothing," I argued, though I kept my tone soft. I didn't want to push him, but I couldn't just stand by while he tried to deal with this on his own. "Liam, please look at me."

"Scott's here," he responded shortly. "You should probably go."

"Liam—"

"Just go, Joey, okay?" Liam interrupted. "I told you, I'm fine."

"No," I told him with a small frown on my face. "I'm not going anywhere." I stood up from the bed and hesitantly crossed over to him. I approached him with caution, gently resting a hand on his arm, watching as he seemed to relax a bit under my touch. "Liam, please, just talk to me. Let me be here for you."

Liam clenched his eyes shut and shook his head. "I-I hate feeling like this."

"Like what?" I asked in a whisper.

He swallowed hard, his glossy gaze meeting mine. "Weak," he answered after a moment, his shoulders slouching the tiniest bit.

"You're not weak, Liam," I said. "You're scared and it's okay to feel that way sometimes. Everyone's had their fair share of struggles—me, Stiles, Lydia, and even Scott—but we got through it with the help of each other. And you'll get through this, too. I promise."

Liam held my eyes, but didn't respond, so I leaned up to press my lips against his. This was the first time I initiated a kiss and I could tell it surprised him. My mom always told me that actions speak louder than words and I didn't know of another way to reassure Liam that I was here for him no matter what—he needed to know that he wasn't going to scare me away or push me out, not after everything we'd just been through together.

I slowly disconnected my lips from Liam's, my eyes fluttering open to look into his. He still seemed like he didn't know what to say, so I just gave him a tentative smile before gathering my belongings and heading downstairs to meet Scott.

x

**A/N:** Okay, so this chapter turned out to be way longer than I intended, but yeah, I hope you liked it anyway! I'm pretty sure I'll be wrapping up "A Promise to the Dead" next chapter and finally be moving on to the season four finale! Though, it's so crazy that I'm almost finished with this story, I'm really excited to start writing for season five because it's just _amazing_. Like, how freaking awesome was last night's episode? I was disappointed there was no Liam, but it was so wild! So many things happened.

Okay, anyway, thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter and continues to read! I've reached over 600 follows and over 400 favorites and I couldn't be more grateful and happy! You guys are _the best_ and words can't even describe that. Thank you so much for all the support and positive feedback!

I'll try to get the next chapter up by Friday, and then maybe another one on Monday, but I'll definitely be posting soon. And you'll be seeing more of Brett-Joey interaction, since I know you guys are liking their developing friendship. Until then, let me know what you thought of this chapter :)


	18. Suffer

chapter eighteen:  
_suffer_

* * *

"I just don't think he should be alone right now," Mason stated, concluding his two-minute long ramblings about Liam's recent strange behavior.

I was searching through my locker—which had become an absolute disaster over the last few weeks of school thanks to the distractions of the supernatural world (I promised myself I would clean it out later)—while Mason leaned on the locker beside mine, trying to persuade me with great effort to join him and Liam in the weight room.

I eventually located my English journal — _finally_ — sticking halfway out from below a mass of miscellaneous papers and my biology textbook. Relieved, I pulled the small notebook out and quickly stored it away in my purse before turning to Mason. "Okay," I conceded with a small sigh, closing my locker and repositioning the strap of my bag on my shoulder. "I'll go—but I'm not lifting weights."

Mason grinned, throwing an arm around my shoulder as he began leading me in the direction of the weight room. "I didn't expect you to."

Walking through the doors of the weight room, I instantly felt my cheeks burn with color as my eyes fell on Liam, who was already laying down on one of the bench presses, in the process of lifting. His tan skin was glistening with sweat and he wearing a white, sleeveless Nike shirt that displayed his toned arms. I'm sure my blush became much more noticeable as I watched the way his muscles flexed with each repetition.

Oh, God. I was definitely joining Stiles down in that lowest circle of hell.

Mason nudged me. "You're staring," he muttered amusedly, causing Liam to stop his movements and glance over at us, my cheeks heating more (if possible).

He stood up from the bench press, and I held my breath, expecting him to say something, but was surprised when he simply looked away, not acknowledging either me or Mason further as he began to load more weights onto the bar.

Mason sighed and shook his head before heading over to the rack of dumbbells beside his best friend. I frowned at Liam's behavior, but stayed quiet as I followed behind Mason, settling myself down onto the bench press beside the one Liam was using. His blue eyes flickered to me as he continued to push more weights onto the bar and I looked up from my lap, wearily meeting his gaze. Tucking a lock of hair behind my ear, I awkwardly glanced away after a moment, tugging nervously at the sleeves of my burgundy sweater.

I thought everything had been okay the night before—I thought Liam was beginning to sort out his problems—but that unexplainable tension was back all of a sudden, and just like at the bonfire, I didn't know what was causing it. I wished he would let me in; wished he would let me help him.

"That's a lot of weight," Mason commented, causing me to snap out of my thoughts and glance over at Liam.

My eyes widened as I took notice of how much weight he'd loaded onto the bar. I felt my stomach knot with an uneasy feeling as Liam lowered himself down onto the bench. Being a werewolf didn't make him invincible—a concept I wished both Liam _and _Scott would try to understand.

"I need to get ready for the game tomorrow," Liam responded.

"Do you need a spot?" Mason asked.

"No," Liam told him, rather bluntly. "Do you?"

I found myself frowning for the second time in ten minutes at the tone of Liam's voice.

Glancing down at the dumbbells he was lifting, Mason made a face. "This is my warm up, you ass."

With a small sigh, I shook my head at the two and set my purse down on the bench beside me, digging out my copy of _The Longest Ride_ before flipping to the page I'd bookmarked earlier in the day.

"What are you doing?" I heard Liam snap, drawing my attention away from my book as I looked over at him.

"I'm spotting you," Mason answered like his intentions were obvious, which they were.

"I said I don't need one."

"Are you kidding me? This is like"—Mason paused to inspect the weights loaded on Liam's bar with an expression of disbelief—"three hundred pounds. You're going to kill yourself."

Instead of saying something in response, Liam simply laid down the bench press and positioned himself under the metal bar, his hands firmly gripped around it.

"Liam, please be careful," I told him in a small voice.

I shared a worried glance with Mason as Liam ignored my words, lifting the weight and bringing it down to his chest. He paused only a moment before pushing the bar right back up and clicking it into place, causing a small breath of relief to escape my lips.

Sitting up, Liam raised his eyebrows at Mason. "Do I look like I need help?"

Hurt flashed across Mason's face as he shook his head and pushed his way out of the weight room without another word, the doors swinging shut behind him.

"He just wants to help you," I murmured. "But he doesn't know how and I can see it's hurting him—it's hurting _me_, Liam. I know something's going on with you and I _know _you don't want to talk about it, but I hate watching you suffer like this."

Liam clenched his jaw, but remained silent as he purposely avoided my gaze and reclined back on the bench once more.

I just stared at him for a moment as he began to vigorously push the weight up and down, expecting him to say something, but he ignored my existence entirely, lost—or maybe more like trapped—in his own world. My heart felt heavy all of a sudden as I remembered what happened to Scott, Allison, and Stiles last semester after they sacrificed themselves to the Nemeton to save our parents from Jennifer.

"_What the hell is happening to me?" Stiles asked breathlessly as he collapsed back against the wall of the locker room and slid down to the floor, as if his legs just couldn't support him any longer. _

"_We'll figure it out, Stiles," I assured him softly, placing a consoling hand on his knee as Scott and I knelt down in front him. _

_Scott nodded in agreement. "You're going to be okay." _

"_Am I? Are any of us?" Stiles questioned doubtfully, his glossy eyes flickering helplessly between me and my brother. "Scott, you can't transform; Allison's being haunted by her dead aunt and I am straight up losing my mind." _

"_Stiles," I whispered, mentally struggling to come up with something comforting to say to him because it was tearing me apart to watch him like this_—_to watch him lose hope._

"_We can't do this," Stiles continued, his voice cracking as he shook his head. "We can't . . . we can't help Malia. We can't help anyone." _

_Things fell silent between the three of us for a moment as we considered his words. How could we help someone else when we couldn't help ourselves? When everything felt like it was falling apart and crumbling down around us? _

"_We can try," Scott eventually said, glancing between Stiles and I with a determined expression. "We can always try." _

I was thrown back into the present with a jolt as I realized what was happening to Liam.

He was being held prisoner to his own mind, just like Stiles was—just like Scott and Allison.

I was yanked from my racing thoughts when I heard Liam yell out in pain. My head snapped up and my eyes widened at the sight of him crushed beneath the bar of weight, his expression frantic as he struggled to lift it off his chest.

With my heart thrumming in panic, I scrambled off the bench press I was sitting on and rushed over to him. I fell to my knees at Liam's head and used both my hands to push up on the bar, but the weight refused to budge, causing tears to build behind my eyes as Liam's breaths shortened to sharp, desperate gasps for air.

The bar was suddenly much lighter in my hands and being lifted off Liam, causing relief to flood through me as I looked up at Scott, who clicked the weight back into place.

Liam coughed profusely and clutched at his chest as he collapsed to the floor between me and my brother. I stood from the floor while I watched him struggle to regain his breath.

"Liam?" Mason questioned, his eyes wide with worry as he appeared behind Scott.

"I'm fine," Liam responded, his tone clipped and sharp.

I tentatively reached out to place my hand on his shoulder and try to comfort him in some way like I had done with Stiles in the past, but Liam shrugged me off, causing me to recoil at the harsh action. Scott glanced at me with a concerned expression, and I nodded as a way to tell him I was okay before he slowly knelt down in front of Liam.

"If you don't want to be with us, that's okay," Scott assured him, his voice a gentle whisper. "But don't push your friends away, too."

Liam's eyes flickered over to me, lingering for a moment before sweeping over to Mason and then returning to Scott. Liam nodded in understanding, slowly pushing himself up to sit on the bench once more, resting his elbows on his knees before running his hands through his hair in an obvious sign of stress.

With a small sigh, Scott rose to his feet and walked over to me. "I have to go pick up Kira," he told me in a hushed voice. "Are you going to be okay catching a ride home with Stiles? He's talking to Coach right now and I don't know how long he's going to be."

"I'll be fine," I assured him with a small smile. "Go have a night of fun, big brother. You deserve it."

Scott nodded with his little crooked grin and wrapped me in a quick hug, pressing a kiss to my forehead before he pulled away. I watched after him for a moment as he quickly weaved his way through different machines and racks of exercise equipment, pausing at the door to cast me one last glance. I shot him a reassuring thumbs up, just like he had done to me when he dropped me off at Liam's house the night before, and he nodded once more before ducking out of the room.

Mason followed shortly after, shaking his head with an unreadable expression as he turned around and pushed through the doors. I sighed and decided to talk to him later before I turned to face Liam, who tentatively raised his blue eyes from the floor to meet my gaze.

I hesitated a moment before I carefully made my way over to him and took a seat beside him on the bench press. I mimicked his position, leaning forward to rest my arms on my knees as I absentmindedly fiddled with the sleeves of my sweater.

"I know what's happening to you, Liam," I forced myself to say after several seconds of silence, pausing a moment to bite my lip out of nervous habit. "And I know how to stop it."

Liam furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?" he asked carefully, staring at me uncertainly.

"I struggled with the same thing you're going through," I explained. "I just didn't realize it until now."

"Joey," Liam began, his brows pulling tighter as his confusion increased. "You're not making any sense."

"You're seeing things, right?" I questioned, and his silence was all the confirmation I needed. "I know _why_, Liam. I can help you."

"How?" he whispered, his blue eyes glistening like delicate crystals.

I released a sigh, preparing myself to remember some painful memories. "Last semester . . . Stiles, Scott, and Allison did something that changed them." And then I launched into the past, the hell we went through—the story of Deucalion, Jennifer, telluric currents, and of course, the Nemeton.

Sometime between human sacrifices and the Nogistune, Liam slipped one of his hands into mine.

"Scott, Stiles, and Allison opened a door into their minds by sacrificing themselves in place of your parents?" he asked once I finished.

I nodded. "And because of it they experienced hallucinations, flashbacks, and nightmares; just like someone with post-traumatic stress would. The same thing was happening to me," I told him. "I never got the proper closure I needed after Allison died and telling you about her . . . i-it triggered memories of her death that I'd suppressed. That's why I had a panic attack on the roof of the hospital —I saw flashbacks of the moment she died."

"How did you stop all of it?" Liam inquired.

"By facing my fears," I answered simply. "I was scared we were all going to end up like Allison—like Erica, Boyd, and Aiden. I was scared this world was going to kill us before we got the chance to really live."

"What changed?" Liam questioned in a quiet voice, fiddling with my fingers.

I smiled faintly. "I did. I embraced the things Chris and Allison taught me. Instead of cowering away from this world and pretending the supernatural didn't really exist, I _embraced_ that I'm a part of this world now—this world that scares me to death sometimes."

"That's why you helped Brett and his pack," Liam deduced, still soundly slightly bitter about it.

"Yeah," I murmured. "Whatever you're afraid of, you have to face it to make the fear go away."

Liam shook his head, his gaze drifting away from mine. "You make it sound so easy."

"You'll be okay," I assured as I gently touched his shoulder, causing his eyes to flicker back to me. "I promise."

Liam remained silent, but before he could look away from me once more, I leaned in and gently caught his lips with mine. Liam reached up and cupped my face in his hands, responding to my soft kiss almost instantly.

Before something more could happen, the doors of the weight room opened, causing us to jump away from each other.

"Oh—God, really? Seriously? _Again_?" Stiles questioned from across the room, his body turned slightly away from us and his eyes half-covered by his hand. I noticed his other hand held the keys to his jeep. "Did you think scarring me for life the first time wasn't enough?" I bit my lip to suppress a smile as I glanced at Liam, who was wearing a similarly amused expression. "Yes, this is all very amusing," Stiles deadpanned, waving his hands around aimlessly. "Can we go now before I literally _suffocate_ from all the hormones floating around in here?"

"Sure, Stiles," I said softly, my lips turning up at the edges. Though Stiles tended to be overprotective—and, admittedly, a little bit of a spaz at times—he was like a second brother to me and I loved him with everything I had.

Turning my attention back to Liam, I leaned over and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. His eyes fell shut as my lips met his skin and stayed closed until I stood up from the bench press. "I'll see you at the game tomorrow," I promised, grabbing my purse.

Liam nodded wordlessly, his lips quirking into a small smile. Our gazes lingered for a moment, and I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, giving him a little smile in return before I headed over to Stiles, who was muttering something under his breath about lovewolves.

x

**A/N:** Okay, so these chapters always turn out longer than I expect them to, which is why I'm late on this and I'm sorry! I thought I would get to the game in this one, but I didn't want to force it in because I thought this was an important chapter for Liam and Joey's relationship development. She knows now that Liam is suffering from post-traumatic stress, much like Stiles, Scott, and Allison did in the first two episodes of season 3b. Now, Joey doesn't know what Liam's afraid of, but she's still helping him get through it while also filling him in on all the stuff that's happened in the past (because they never show on Teen Wolf any of the characters telling him what happened in earlier seasons).

Anyways, thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter and continues to read! There are just no words to express how grateful I am to have such amazing readers who interact with me and give me opinions and suggestions and tell me what they want to see in chapters. I'm so appreciative of you guys! Let me know what you think of this chapter and possibly what you want to see happen in the next one?

Now, who wants to scream about last night's episode? Because that shit was crazy. Literally _crazy_. So much happened and like, Malia was badass and Theo is still being shady as heck and Stydia was color coordinating their outfits and all my faves are having horrific flashbacks to their childhood and I honestly don't even know how I survived that episode. Oh, and of course, Liam was his adorable self :)


	19. Hypervigilance

chapter nineteen:  
_hypervigilance_

* * *

There was something very wrong.

I didn't know what the "something" was, but I could feel the familiar sense of unease fluctuating in every bone of my body; the familiar sense that some sort of disaster was about to happen and there was nothing I could do to stop it. My stomach was in knots and my heartbeat was quickening and my blood was thrumming and my skin was tingling with anxiety and—

"Jo." Stiles' voice interrupted my inner turmoil as he took one of his hands off the steering wheel to grab mine. "Breathe, okay? You're starting to scare me and I'm ninety-nine point nine percent sure Scott's fine. I mean, he sent you a text too, right?"

I nodded, swallowing down the lump in my throat. "He said he's still with Kira and they both might be a little late to the game."

Stiles tore his eyes from the road to glance over at me. "And?" he pressed, a knowing look on his face.

I sighed in defeat, sinking a bit further into the beat up leather of the jeep's passenger seat. "And he told me not to worry."

"Exactly." Stiles gave my hand a small squeeze before letting go entirely and placing it back on the steering wheel. "There's no more deadpool—no more assassins, either. Nobody's dying. We're going to be okay, Joey."

I released a small breath and turned to gaze out the window as I processed Stiles words, trying to convince myself that everything was fine, but I just couldn't shake the bad feeling surrounding me like an aura, stitching deeper into my veins with each passing second.

"What if something really _is_ wrong, Stiles?" I asked in a small voice as he pulled the jeep into an unoccupied space of the high school parking lot.

Stiles seemed thoughtful for a second, like he was considering my question. "Well, then, we'll just cross that bridge when we get there," he eventually decided, before clumsily pushing his way out of the car in his typical Stiles fashion.

Despite the crush of worry I was feeling, I let a small smile spread across my face as I watched him. No matter what happened with the supernatural world, Stiles was always a constant; he never changed—not entirely, at least—and I found comfort in that.

I took a deep breath, attempting to push away my nerves for the time being as I climbed out of the jeep and walked around to the front, where Stiles was waiting for me with his lacrosse duffle bag slung across his body.

"So, how are we going to break the news to Liam?" I asked wearily as we headed through the doors of the school and down the hallway toward the locker room. I knew Liam was in a fragile condition, more on edge than ever, and I was afraid he was going to snap at any second.

"I, uh, didn't _actually_ plan on telling him," Stiles said a bit sheepishly, reaching a hand up to rub the nape of his neck. "Because, personally, I'm a fan of just ignoring the problem until it eventually goes away."

"What problem? There's a problem?" Liam asked anxiously, appearing in front of us the moment we stepped into the locker room corridor, which was scattered with lacrosse players.

Stiles nearly jumped three feet in the air at the sight of him and I did my best to stifle a laugh at his spastic demeanor. "Didn't anybody ever tell you it's not polite to use supernatural hearing abilities to eavesdrop?" he asked, narrowing his hazel eyes at Liam.

I was familiar with this Stiles-esque tactic—using sarcasm to deflect questions he didn't want to answer.

Liam looked like he was about to say something snarky in reply, but his face seemed to pale a shade before any words left his mouth. "Where's Scott?" he questioned, his voice shaking slightly as he searched behind us for any sign of my brother. "Why isn't he with you?"

Stiles and I shared a glance before he turned his gaze on Liam.

"He, uh, he might be a little late—a _little_," Stiles emphasized upon noticing the growing panic on Liam's face.

"Well, how late is late?" Liam asked, his bright blue eyes jumping between me and Stiles as they clouded with worry. I gently placed a hand on his arm, hoping to calm him down the slightest bit as I exchanged another concerned look with Stiles. Liam barely acknowledged my touch though as he continued to ramble. "Is he always late? We're playing Devenford Prep again and this time it's an actual game, h-he shouldn't be late."

"Who shouldn't be late?" Coach cut into the conversation, causing my eyes to widen as he joined us in the hallway.

Stiles seemed to have a similar reaction, his eyes falling shut for a moment before he turned to Liam and gestured for him to explain.

With a faint grimace, Liam let out a reluctant sigh. "Scott and Kira."

"Might be slightly late," Stiles added quickly, trying to ease the blow of this information.

"I, um, I'll wait for you guys on the field," I murmured, sensing the bomb about to explode.

"That's probably a good idea," Stiles said from the corner of his mouth, his eyes trained on Coach.

With a slow nod of agreement, I gave Stiles a small, encouraging pat on the shoulder before I quickly made my escape with Coach's voice sounding behind me. I winced as I pictured him tearing into Stiles and Liam with an intimidating expression and a series of interrogating questions.

Adjusting the strap of my purse more securely on my shoulder, I pushed through the set of double doors at the end of the hall leading out to the lacrosse field. I shivered as the brisk night air hit me, and as I travelled farther onto the field, over toward the maroon-washed Beacon Hills side of the bleachers, I suddenly wished I remembered to bring a jacket.

Once I reached the bench where the Cyclones were gearing up, I took a seat, cringing at how cold the metal was underneath me. I crossed my left leg over my right and wrapped my arms around myself, trying to conserve as much body heat as possible as I waited for Stiles and Liam.

My eyes wandered around of their own accord, drifting from the bleachers behind me—where I spotted Malia, the Sheriff, and Mason—over to Devenford's side of the field. Through the sea of emerald green jerseys, I found Brett, who was passing a ball around with a couple of teammates. His gaze caught mine just as he tossed the ball to another player, causing me to instinctively glance away as my cheeks warmed with color.

"He's still not here."

I jumped at sound of Liam's voice as he and Stiles sat down on either side of me, throwing their bags onto the ground in front of them.

"Okay, what's really going on?" Stiles asked him, while I simply glanced back and forth between them, still a bit bewildered by their sudden appearance. "Are you nervous about the full moon? It's not for another twenty-four hours."

Instead of replying, Liam released a tense breath and stared up at the sky, where the moon was nearly full.

"Liam," I said softly as I touched his shoulder, causing him to turn his head and look at me. "You're going to be fine, okay?"

"Just try not to rage out on anyone," Stiles added.

Liam raised his eyebrows at him. "You're not worried?"

"Mildly concerned," Stiles responded. "Mildly."

Liam didn't seem convinced, but dropped the subject and began to rummage through his duffle for something as Stiles pulled out his phone. We shared another glance before he started typing out a message to Scott. Hoping Liam wouldn't notice, I subtly leaned closer to Stiles to read what he was saying.

**How late are you going to be? Very worried. Very. **

Stiles tapped the send button and when he met my eyes, I gave him a look, to which he shrugged in response.

"It looks like the game is starting," I commented then, watching as lacrosse players in maroon and green began to file onto the field. "I'll be with Mason if you need me."

Stiles nodded distractedly, still staring down at his phone, most likely sending a series of anxious messages to Scott. Thankful he was preoccupied, I shifted closer to Liam and cupped a side of his jaw, causing him to turn toward me. His bright blue eyes were filled with self-doubt as they searched mine. Before he could say anything, I connected our lips and instantly felt the familiar sensation of butterflies in my stomach. Liam's soft lips molded perfectly against mine and my heart thrummed with a warm feeling as he kissed me, sending me into a world of bliss.

After a moment, I gently drew my lips from his, the corners of my mouth lifting into a small smile. Liam leaned into me more as I pulled away, but I moved back farther, aware of all the people around, most likely witnessing our intimate exchange.

"Good luck," I told him softly, before standing without another word and heading up the bleachers toward Mason, who was wearing a smug expression. "What?" I murmured, suddenly feeling self-conscious about my public display of affection as I sat down beside him and tucked a dark lock of hair behind my ear.

Mason simply shook his head, his smirk stretching into a wide grin as he threw an arm over my shoulders. "I knew you two were a thing."

Before I could protest, the whistle was blown by the referee and the game was starting.

I watched practically through covered eyes as Stiles seemed to fall all over himself numerous times on the field and Devenford scored goal after goal, collecting point after point.

"Well, this is looking promising," Mason commented sarcastically.

"Very," I agreed in the same facetious tone.

After witnessing Stiles be plowed down by two players twice his size, I winced along with the rest of the crowd and decided to slip my phone out of my purse to dial Scott's number. I didn't know why I hadn't thought to call him earlier.

I bit my lip nervously and held my breath as it rang and rang and rang, eventually reaching his voicemail. With a small sigh of frustration, I tried once more, but after it went unanswered, I tucked my phone away in defeat.

Halftime had rolled around without me noticing, and as I glanced around in search of Liam, I found Stiles instead, talking to his dad and Malia. I narrowed my eyes slightly, trying to figure out what was going on as I watched them converse in hushed tones. Stiles and the Sheriff slipped away a moment later, causing me to instantly retrieve my phone once more as I sent a quick text to Stiles.

**Something's wrong, isn't it? **

I stared down at the device in my hands as I waited anxiously for him to respond.

Why would Stiles leave and not tell me where he's going?

I jumped a bit as my phone buzzed and Stiles' reply appeared in a little gray bubble.

**Not necessarily. **

He was being evasive; something was definitely wrong. I typed with trembling hands as I sent him another message.

**You're going to find Scott, aren't you? **

His response came within seconds this time.

**Yes and you'll be the first person I call if anything happens. For now, just make sure Liam doesn't rip anyone's throat out. **

I locked my phone and let out a nervous breath as I turned my attention back to the game, trying not to think about Liam doing _any_ kind of ripping. I attempted to focus on what was happening on the field, nervously tugging at my bottom lip as Connor—a short but lean freshmen from my English class—lined up opposite Brett in the draw for the ball.

The whistle was blown by the referee and Connor took possession of the ball almost instantly, while Brett didn't even seem to try, causing me to frown as I wondered what was going on with him. He seemed distracted.

Unfortunately, Brett's minor slip up wasn't phasing his team in the slightest as Devenford was still playing spectacularly, easily regaining control of the ball from the Cyclones in a matter of seconds, eliciting a series of groans from the crowd.

Catching the ball effortlessly from one of his teammates, Brett turned and began running down the field in the direction of the Beacon Hills goal, with two other Devenford players flanking him for extra protection.

I was just about to lose all hope for our team until I noticed Liam was the only player that stood between Brett and our goal. I held my breath as Liam ran down the field, heading straight for Brett.

Just when I thought he was going in for the kill, Liam froze.

"Liam!" Coach bellowed from the sidelines. "For the love of God, _move_!"

Liam seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in, but remained still as Brett swiftly moved past him and flicked the ball through the air, scoring another point for Devenford. Mason groaned in disappointment while I resisted the urge to bury my head in my hands.

This was taking a disastrous turn.

The game carried on, and the by the fourth quarter, Liam seemed like himself again as he swiftly intercepted a pass, taking back possession of the ball for the Cyclones.

"Go, Liam!" I shouted instinctively, my voice mingling along with the other cheers of the crowd as he ran toward Devenford's goal, slipping past their defenders with ease.

Liam was only a few feet from the goal when Brett slammed into him from the side, hitting him to the ground. My breath hitched in my throat as I watched him collide with the grass, knowing the impact had to hurt, even for someone with supernatural healing abilities.

The whistle sounded as the referee headed over to where Brett and Liam were — I squinted my eyes slightly to see better past the harsh lights — seemingly sharing a few words as Liam pushed up to his feet. I furrowed my eyebrows, curious as to what was happening between them as Brett said something to the ref, smirked at Liam, and then turned away to join his team.

The game ended soon after the small altercation, and as I watched both teams file off the field, I murmured to Mason that I would see him later before I slipped down the bleachers.

Reaching the bottom, I noticed Malia sitting with Peter, and as he met my eyes, I quickly looked away. No matter how many times Peter helped us, I still didn't trust him. He did this to all of us—threw us into this world—and I would never see him as one of the good guys. I would never forget he was the reason why Scott's gone through so much suffering; experienced so much grief and loss.

I glanced worriedly over my shoulder at Peter and Malia once more as I walked along the sidelines of the field. I knew whatever he wanted with her wasn't father-daughter related.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts and turned my attention in front of me as I headed inside the school, over to the boy's locker room. Player after player tricked out—all except for Liam.

I sighed, knowing I might be waiting a little longer than usual.

A hand wrapped around my elbow, causing me to jump embarrassingly high before I turned around to face who had grabbed me.

My eyes widened slightly in surprise as I met the gaze of Brett Talbot.

"What do you want?" I asked wearily as I crossed my arms over my chest. "Knocking Liam to the ground once wasn't enough for you?"

Brett's eyebrows furrowed faintly at my tone. "Woah, Joey, you don't underst—,"

"What is there to understand, Brett?" I interrupted, thankful we were the only two in the hallway as my voice rose a few octaves. "I _saw_ what happened. I don't need an explanation nor do I _want_ one. Just leave me alone."

I wanted to be angry, and I probably sounded like I was, but I was more hurt by Brett's actions than anything else. I didn't think we would be best friends, but after the night at the animal clinic and spending time with him at the warehouse, I stupidly thought Brett was different.

He wasn't different though, he was like all the other lacrosse jocks and was just good at pretending he wasn't. I was an idiot for not realizing sooner that Brett Talbot was just a taller, more attractive version of Jackson.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, Joey," Brett said softly, stepping closer to me while I mentally cursed chemo signals. "Or Liam. Believe it or not, I was actually trying to help him."

I felt some of my hostility melt away at his earnest expression. "What do you mean?" I asked in a small voice.

With a sigh, Brett ran a hand through his sandy-colored hair. "Liam was losing it out on the field," he explained. "I don't know what's up with him, but I could smell his fear and he was more than just scared—he was terrified." I frowned as I remembered what happened in Liam's bedroom the other night. He clearly wasn't getting any better and I hated not knowing how to help him get through this. "Joey." Brett gently cupped my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. I hadn't even realized I'd looked away from him. "Don't worry, he's going to be okay."

Attempting to collect myself—because I felt more than pathetic at the moment—I took a deep breath and nodded. "I-I don't want to lose him," I whispered.

"You won't," Brett assured in a firm voice, running his thumb over my cheek once before he dropped his hand to hold mine. "Come on."

I blushed, but Brett didn't seem to notice as he pulled me into the locker room. My eyes widened as I glanced over my shoulder and looked down the empty hallway to make sure there were no witnesses before the door swung shut behind me.

I followed Brett through the rows of lockers, coming to a stop once we found Liam, who was sitting on a bench with a lacrosse stick resting on his knees and a sullen expression on his face.

"You okay?" Brett called to him, releasing my hand as he leaned lazily against the end of the lockers. I hovered beside him and bit the inside of my cheek, pulling the sleeves of my sweater down over my hands in a nervous habit.

Liam glanced over at us, his bright blue eyes flickering between me and Brett, causing my anxiety to rise a degree. After another silent moment, his gaze settled on Brett. "We lost," Liam said simply.

"But you're okay, right?" Brett asked, and I watched him carefully in my peripheral vision, suddenly feeling guilty for thinking he was anything like Jackson.

"Why'd you do that?" Liam questioned instead of answering. "Why'd you help me?"

"Because of her." Brett tilted his head in my direction, causing my eyes to widen the slightest bit as I glanced over at him surprise. He was doing this for me? "And because of Scott. They saved me and my sister—they saved all of us." Brett's eyes flickered to me, his lips lifting into a small smile. I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear and looked down at the brown riding boots I was wearing, hoping to conceal the warmth flaring across my cheeks as he continued. "Do you know how lucky you are?"

Liam clenched his jaw, his eyebrows slightly furrowing. "What do you mean?"

"Scott's a _true_ alpha," Brett responded. "That means he didn't get his powers because he was born with it and he didn't get it by stealing it or killing someone."

"He earned it," I finished softly, sharing another glance with Brett.

"You're not strong because you can lift a lot of weight now—you're strong because you endure," Brett resumed. "Satomi calls it strength of character. You're lucky to have him."

Brett slowly pushed off the locker he was leaning on to exit the locker room.

"Thank you," I murmured as he walked past me.

He gave a small nod in a silent _you're welcome_ before he disappeared behind a row of lockers.

Once I heard the locker room door shut, I hesitantly approached Liam and sat down beside him on the bench as I contemplated whether or not I should try to say something.

"Why isn't he here?" Liam eventually muttered, and I was sure the question wasn't meant for me, but I found myself wondering the same thing.

Where the hell was my brother?

My phone started to vibrate in my pocket and I pulled the device out to see Stiles' name flashing across the screen.

"Hello?" I answered, pressing the phone to my ear.

"_Joey_!" Stiles' frantic voice crackled through the speaker, causing my nerves to kick into overdrive almost automatically. "_Where are you? Are you still at the game? I'm coming to get you_."

"Why? What's happened?" I asked, my own voice taking on a tone of panic as I stood up from the bench, ignoring Liam's questioning gaze. "_S_tiles," I said more firmly once he hesitated to respond.

I could hear him sigh deeply on the other end of the line, most likely running a hand through his disheveled hair. "_Scott and Kira_ . . . _something's happened to them_, _Jo_," Stiles told me softly.

All of a sudden, that persistent crushing feeling had returned, and I felt like I couldn't breathe. "_What_ happened, Stiles?" I demanded as I clutched my phone tighter in my hand, worry spreading through me like wildfire.

"_They were taken_."

x

**A/N:** Sorry, sorry, sorry! I should have had this uploaded sooner and I feel so terrible about it, but I'm currently on vacation and the hotel I'm staying at doesn't have wifi (which we didn't find out about until we were actually here), so I'm using the hotspot on my phone to get this up for you guys because I don't want you to have to wait until Monday when I come home!

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I can't believe I'm almost finished with this story, but on the other hand, I'm really excited to start writing for season five because it's getting so crazy. I also hoped you enjoyed seeing some more of Brett. I've liked developing his friendship with Joey. :) Oh, and in case anyone forgot from season two, **hypervigilance** is the persistent feeling of being under threat—which is what Joey was feeling throughout the chapter. And, apparently, she had a right to feel that way.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter and continues to read on! This has been such a journey for me and I feel so attached to this story now. It's been over a year since I published it and I still can't believe all the positive feedback I've received. You guys are honestly the best and there are just no words to express how much I appreciate every single one of you!

Because I absolutely love reading them, drop me a review and tell me what you thought of this chapter! The next three or four are going to be so fun for me to write :)


	20. The Sun, The Moon, The Truth

chapter twenty:  
_the sun, the moon, the truth_

* * *

I rummaged through Scott's wardrobe with trembling hands, carelessly pushing aside his hangers as I frantically searched through his clothes. My entire body was shaking and my heart was thrumming wildly in my chest, but I was doing my best to ignore the all-consuming anxiety gripping at me, threatening to plunge me into a full-blown panic.

"Jo," Stiles said in a soft voice, coming up behind me to grab my wrists and stop my movements. "Rest for a like, half a second, okay? You've been awake for twenty-four hours straight."

"So have you," I argued, though my tone held no trace of confrontation as he ushered me in the direction of Scott's bed. I was more concerned for his wellbeing at the moment since Stiles always seemed to throw himself into these things without thinking about what the outcome could be for him.

"Just—take a seat, alright?" Stiles told me, impatience laced through his words. "I don't want you passing out from exhaustion."

I took a deep breath, hoping to calm my nerves and nodded in reluctant compliance, sitting down on my brother's bed while Stiles resumed searching through his clothes. I chewed the inside of my cheek and fiddled with the soft sleeves of my sweater as I tried not to focus on the fear I was feeling.

But I couldn't help it. This was Scott—my _brother_—my own flesh and blood; the one boy in my life who had been by my side through absolutely everything.

I wouldn't know how to live without Scott.

I attempted to quiet my thoughts as they raced a mile a minute with endless questions.

_Was he still alive?_

_Was he being tortured by Kate?_

_Did she have her berserkers kill him for her own vengeful reasons?_

"Try this," Stiles instructed, breaking me from my thoughts as he clumsily yanked a shirt from Scott's closet and tossed the material to Malia.

Malia brought the shirt up to her nose and shook her head. "Fabric softener," she stated in explanation, throwing it onto the bed beside me.

Stiles frowned and looked around the room for a moment with an uncertain expression before he rushed into Scott's bathroom. I raised an amused eyebrow as Stiles fished out a pair of plaid boxer's from my brother's wash basket and held them out to Malia, who I'm sure was grimacing at the idea.

"Remember, Scott's life is on the line," Stiles reminded as he waved the boxers around, urging her to take them.

"Wait," I spoke up, my gaze drifting over toward Scott's pillow. Malia and Stiles' attention fell on me as I made a grab for it. "Will this work?"

Without pausing for a response, I tossed the pillow to Malia and she brought the soft object close to her face before she inhaled. She flashed a tight-lipped smile of victory, the pillow an effective scent marker, and I stood from Scott's bed as she headed toward the door.

"Yeah, that works too," Stiles commented, quickly tossing Scott's boxers aside as he rushed to follow Malia.

Smiling at their antics, I trailed behind the couple and the three of us hurried down the stairs. We rounded the corner into the hallway and my heart started to beat a little faster at the sight of Liam leaning against the kitchen table.

Stiles made an exasperated noise in his throat as we headed toward him. "Liam, go home. You're not coming with us."

"Why not?" Liam questioned with a frown.

"Because it's a full moon," Stiles answered as he and Malia turned to face Liam. I stood beside him, biting the inside of my cheek in a seemingly unbreakable anxious habit. "And I don't feel like driving all the way down to Mexico just to have you rip my throat out."

"You can lock me up, right? Chain me down to the backseat or something?"

"You tore through the last chains, remember?" I said quietly, subconsciously soothing a hand over my collarbone where Liam had clawed me at the lake house during his first full moon.

"Yeah, we would have to freeze you in carbonite to get you down there," Stiles added.

"Okay," Liam responded slowly with an uncertain shrug of his shoulders and a slight furrow of his eyebrows. "Then where do we get . . . carbonite?"

In other circumstances, I probably would have laughed. Scott had never watched Star Wars, but Stiles had made me suffer through it many, _many_ times and though I barely understood any of it, I paid attention enough to know when Stiles was making a reference—which was way too often for my liking.

Stiles narrowed his eyes at Liam. "Seriously?" he asked in disbelief. "You haven't seen it either?"

Liam remained silent, and Stiles shook his head before turning away, heading for the door once more.

"Wait!" Liam exclaimed, causing Stiles to face him once more with a small sigh. "What if we put me in the trunk?"

"You'd get out of that, too," Malia informed.

"Liam, you've been a werewolf all of five minutes— you don't have to do this," Stiles told him in a softer tone. His hazel eyes then shifted over to me, gleaming with a familiar gentleness. "Either of you."

"I know I don't, but I want to," Liam stated firmly, his crystal blue eyes flickering to me. I met his gaze, my heart warming at the determination sparkling in his irises. Stiles glanced between the two of us for a moment with an expression I couldn't read, but I chose to ignore him for the time being. "There has to be bigger chains, a bigger trunk or _something_, there has to be," Liam continued. I couldn't help but think Scott would be proud of his beta if he were here.

Stiles didn't respond right away, and by the look on his face, I knew the wheels in his head were spinning with ideas.

"Maybe there is."

* * *

Gripping onto the worn leather of my seat, I stifled a frightened yelp as Stiles hit the accelerator and the jeep took a sharp turn into the garage of an abandoned building on the outskirts of Beacon Hills, somewhere in the depths of the warehouse district. He screeched the vehicle to a halt, and I released a sigh of relief, the tension coiled in my muscles flooding away as I reminded myself I was doing this for Scott.

"Stiles," I said as I peered out the window, my eyes wandering wearily over our surroundings. "What are we doing here?"

Before we left my house, Stiles had made a quick phone call—muttering something about connections—and then proceeded to shove me, Liam, and Malia into his jeep without another word of explanation on where we were going or what his plan was. He had sped through town, thrusting the jeep this way and that, awarding me my first stint of motion sickness.

I was clueless as to what crazy operation Stiles had concocted this time, but I was sure it was going to end with someone I loved broken and bloody because no one gets a happy ending in a town like Beacon Hills.

Stiles met my eyes through the rearview mirror. "We're meeting the reinforcements," he told me simply, before he pushed his way out of the jeep with Malia in tow.

Looking over at Liam with a weary expression, I felt my nerves melt away as he shot me a weak smile of reassurance. With a deep breath, I released my seatbelt and grasped onto Liam's outstretched hand as he helped me climb out of the car.

The four of us—Stiles, Malia, Liam, and I—migrated around the front of the jeep as a large van pulled to a stop a few feet away. Watching as Braeden gracefully hopped out and strode toward us, I stood between Stiles and Liam, subconsciously reaching up to touch my shoulder where the strap of my sling of arrows should have been resting. Though I knew my bow would be essentially useless against a seemingly indestructible creature like a berserker, I had brought it just in case, stashing the weapon (and my arrows) in the back of the jeep.

I was desperate to save Scott, no matter by what means.

"How did you get a prison transport van?" Stiles asked once Braeden reached us.

"I'm a U.S. Marshall," she answered simply.

"Yeah, I just thought that was a cover."

Braeden stared at Stiles with a vague expression of amusement as Derek pulled up in his Toyota SUV. My stomach flipped with anxiety at the sight of Peter in the passenger seat next to him.

"Are we really bringing him?" Derek asked with a nod in Liam's direction as he and Peter migrated into our circle.

"Are we really bringing _him_?" I countered sharply—with a jab toward Peter—before I even realized the words were coming out of my mouth.

Peter narrowed his eyes at me and I felt myself recoil, my sudden surge of confidence doused like the flames of a fire once water was thrown on them. "We're bringing everyone we can, Josephine," Peter told me pointedly. "And considering Scott and Kira were taken the night before a full moon, we should probably get going."

"What does that mean?" Malia questioned.

"If Kate took Scott back to the same temple that she took Derek, how do we know she's not planning to do the same thing to him?" Peter answered her with a rhetorical question, which only served to heighten the panic I was beginning to feel.

What if something horrible was happening to Scott?

"She wants to make him younger?" Liam asked in confusion.

"Or take him back to when he wasn't a werewolf," Derek suggested.

"A werewolf can't steal a true alpha's power, but maybe, a nahual jaguar with the power of Tezcatlipoca behind her"—Peter paused in his explanation, releasing a sigh—"maybe she can." I looked up at Stiles, who appeared just as worried as me, and then over at Liam as fear coursed through my veins faster than adrenaline. Most likely sensing my unease, he reached for my hand and laced our fingers together, giving a consoling squeeze, causing the corners of my lips to tip into a small smile of thanks. "So, if everyone is sufficiently freaked out," Peter continued, drawing the attention back to him. "I say we get going."

"We can't," I said, my voice soft but firm, causing all eyes to fall on me.

"Not without Lydia," Stiles finished, sharing a glance with me before his hazel eyes flickered around at the others.

"Where is she?" Braeden questioned as her eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"At the school," Stiles answered shortly. "I'll try calling her."

I chewed at the inside of my cheek as I watched Stiles turn away and pull out his phone. He paced back and forth—one of his nervous habits—so I assumed he wasn't reaching our strawberry-blonde best friend. My worries were growing stronger and more prominent with each passing second I spent staring at Stiles as he re-dialed Lydia's number with an expression of frustration.

I couldn't lose Scott and Lydia in the same day; not after Allison.

"What's she doing at the school, anyway?" Derek asked.

"We have Kira's sword, but we need something with a stronger scent," Malia explained, holding up the katana for him to see. "Lydia went to get a jacket out of her locker."

"Nothing," Stiles muttered, phone in hand as he walked toward us.

"If she has a car, she can catch up to us," Braden said indifferently.

"That's a good point," Peter agreed as he pointed in Braeden's direction. "We'll call from the road."

Stiles quickly shook his head. "No, what if something happened? What if she's in trouble?"

"Fine, you stay—you find her. We're going to go on without you," Peter told him, his impatience to find Scott only warranting my suspicion that much more.

Since when did Peter Hale care about helping anyone other than himself?

"I can call Mason," Liam offered, causing me to glance over at him. He met my gaze, shrugging uncertainly. "He has a study group at school, maybe he could look for her."

I looked at Stiles along with everyone else, leaving the final decision up to him.

After a moment, he released a reluctant sigh. "Alright, fine."

We began to split up, splintering off into small groups as we headed toward our designated choice of vehicle. I trailed after Liam like it was second nature—and maybe it was now.

"Hey, woah, Joey." Stiles caught up to me, gently grabbing my elbow to stop me. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he pulled me off to the side, forcing me to let go of Liam's hand. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going with Liam."

"Um, no, you're not," Stiles told me with an incredulous expression. "But that's hilarious, though."

Resisting the urge to rub at my temples, I sighed. "Stiles—"

"Do I have to remind you what happened during the last full moon?" Stiles cut me off, gesturing toward my collarbone where Liam had scratched me. "There's no guarantee Liam's going to be able to control himself and I don't want you getting hurt again."

"Would you rather me ride with Peter?" I asked, leveling Stiles with a knowing look. "The guy that turned my brother and your best friend _into a werewolf_? The guy who is basically the cause of all our supernatural problems?"

Stiles tilted his head to side, seemingly contemplating. "Good point," he said eventually, causing me to smile. "But if he harms one perfect, chocolate-brown hair on your head, I'm going to put wolfsbane in his puppy treats."

Breathing out a laugh, I wrapped an arm around Stiles' torso and pulled him into a side-hug, grateful to have someone in my life who cared so much about me. I could always count on him to make me feel better and lighten the mood in dark circumstances. He returned the embrace by placing his arm over my shoulder and bringing me in close, a little smile tugging at his lips.

Our moment of happiness was cut short at the sound of Peter's voice, causing everyone to stop their movements and turn to look at him. "Remember what we're dealing with here," he began. "It's not just Kate; it's berserkers. You might see human eyes behind those skulls, but do no assume that there is _any_ humanity left." He glanced over at Liam, and I followed his gaze, my eyebrows furrowing the slightest bit at the discomfort written all over his face. "This little one is terrified of them, aren't you?" I frowned as Liam looked over at me and Stiles, not quite meeting either of our eyes. "Don't worry, my friend, it is that fear that will keep you alive. As a reminder to everyone, you do not fight berserkers to survive—you fight to kill."

I shivered at the dark undertones of Peter's voice and willed my shaky legs to move as Stiles began to lead me toward the back of the prison transport van. Derek climbed in first, with Stiles in tow, and then Liam, who took hold of my hand once more as he tugged me in. I settled down beside him, sharing weary glances with both Derek and Stiles. Apparently, we were all feeling the same way about what we were about to do and who we were about to face.

"I, uh, swiped these from the station." Stiles' voice broke the silence as he held up two pairs of handcuffs. Liam's eyes flickered over to me with uncertainty before settling on Stiles. "For extra precautionary purposes."

Braeden started the engine before following Peter and Malia out of the garage, hitting the accelerator as Derek and Stiles began the process of chaining Liam to the cylinder-shaped bar beneath our seat—Stiles enjoying it a bit too much —as I watched, wondering what this night had in store for us.

There was no telling how much time Scott had. What if we couldn't save him? What if we weren't strong enough? What if we were too late?

"All good?" Derek questioned Liam once they finished handcuffing him. Liam yanked up on his restraints and metal clashed as he tested out their strength before he nodded toward Derek. "Okay, I brought something to help you," he continued, pulling a thin circular-shaped object from the pocket of his leather jacket. He turned it over, and I recognized the three spirals that represented the triskelion, the same symbol Derek had tattooed on his back. "This has been with my family for centuries," Derek explained. "It's a very powerful supernatural talisman. We use it to teach betas how to control themselves under the full moon."

Derek handed the "powerful supernatural talisman" to Liam, who accepted the object without a word, studying it curiously as I glanced over at Stiles, whose eyes were narrowed in skepticism and disbelief. Derek met Stiles gaze, nodding sharply in Liam's direction, and they had one of their moments of silent communication that I never understood before Stiles seemed to catch on to whatever Derek was hinting at.

"Yes, it's powerful," Stiles added, rather unconvincingly, as his eyes flitted uncertainly between Derek and Liam for a moment. "Very powerful."

Liam looked up at the partners in crime and nodded in understanding, evidently trusting what they were telling him. His crystal blue eyes then flickered to me, and I gently touched his shoulder, giving him a small, reassuring smile.

* * *

Unemotionally.

That was the one thing Allison and Chris had always told me—to approach a situation _unemotionally_.

As the sky darkened and the full moon rose, I kept repeating the word in my mind, hoping to keep my nerves at bay. With each mile we covered, driving farther and farther into the depths of Mexico, I felt myself gradually growing more anxious; I felt the panic bubbling in my blood beneath the surface of my skin as we came closer and closer to the church where we would find Kate, her berserkers, and Scott.

I didn't know what to expect and I was terrified of what we would come across once we reached our destination.

Metal clinked beside me as Liam let out a grunt of pain, startling me, Derek, and Stiles, who jumped and retracted his legs from where they were previously resting on top of my knees.

I moved slowly, cautiously inching away from Liam the slightest bit as his shoulders began to heave up and down with each labored breath he took. He thrashed against the handcuffs once more, drawing my eyes to his bound wrists. He was gripping the talisman tight with a hand full of sharp claws.

"Whatever you're going to teach me," Liam growled low, his forehead drenched in sweat and his eyes glowing a vibrant gold, "I think you better start."

I stared at him with wide eyes, my gaze darting from him to Stiles and Derek, my expression desperate—pleading for them to help him because my mind was as blank as a canvas under the immense pressure I was feeling to do something.

Derek nodded at me before turning his attention to Liam, who was growing more ferocious by the second. "Liam, are you with me?" Derek asked, waiting until Liam was focused on him before he continued. "We have a mantra that we use—you repeat it and focus on the words, like mediating. You say the words until you feel control coming back to you."

"Okay," Liam ground out, clenching his eyes shut as he doubled over in pain. "Okay, okay, what are the words?"

"Look at the triskelion, do you see the symbols?" Derek asked, his tone calm but equally urgent. "I have a tattoo on my back; it's the same thing. Each spiral means something."

"Alpha, beta, omega," Stiles murmured, catching onto where Derek was going with this.

"It represents the idea that we can always rise to one and fall back to another," Derek explained.

"Betas can become alphas," I supplied helpfully, thinking of Scott's transition from Peter's beta to true alpha.

"Alphas can become betas," Stiles added on.

"Can alphas become omegas?" Liam asked through panted breaths.

As Derek nodded slowly, I tried not to imagine Scott becoming an omega.

"All you have to do is say the three words and with each one you tell yourself you're getting calmer, more in control," Derek instructed. "Go ahead."

"Alpha, beta—,"

"Slower," Derek cut in.

"Alpha, beta, omega," Liam said, closing his eyes as he repeated each word, remembering the meaning of the spiral in his hand. He released another grunt of agony, his voice wavering as he struggled to continue, causing my stomach to tighten with sharp knots. "Alpha, beta, omega."

"Good, say it again," Derek ordered. "Remember, every time you say the words, you're getting calmer."

Liam repeated the mantra once more, but he wasn't anywhere near calm. His voice was lowering to a deepening growl, his claws glinting in the moonlight streaming into the van, and I fought to keep my heartbeat steady as I watched him gradually begin to lose control of the wolf inside him.

"Derek, I don't think that, uh, powerful talisman of self-control is working," Stiles pointed out as he pulled his legs up farther into his chest in a useless effort to keep himself as far from Liam as possible.

My own breathing picked up as Liam's irises blazed gold like fire, his fangs extending as he released a growl and lunged for Derek. I yelped in fright and grabbed onto the nearest object to keep myself balanced as the van began to sway back and forth along the dirt road with Liam's powerful movements.

Liam ripped his handcuff from the bar underneath us and I gasped as he swung at Derek, who intercepted his arm right before it could make contact with his face.

"Derek?" Braeden called from the front, most likely trying to figure out what the hell was happening.

"I think we're going to need to go a little faster!" Stiles shouted.

"Keep going!" Derek told her, fighting to hold Liam back as he broke free entirely from the handcuffs that now seemed flimsy and fragile in comparison to his strength.

I chewed on my lower lip as ideas on how to help Liam raced through my mind at top speed, much too fast for me to even catch one and go through the steps. Though, in hindsight, the methods I'd used to help Scott in the past probably wouldn't work the same way for someone like Liam, who had already struggled to control his anger as a human.

"We're almost there," Braeden yelled back to us.

Liam only seemed to become more feral with each growl and snarl that ripped from his throat as he continuously tried to slash Derek open.

"I don't really think alpha, beta, omega is resonating with him," Stiles commented.

"Well, do you know any other mantras?" Derek snapped.

"Yeah, I do," Stiles replied. I watched with a weary expression as he leaned forward, trying to draw Liam's attention away from Derek. "Liam, what three things cannot long be hidden?"

Pieces of a scattered puzzle fell together in my mind as I remembered the night at the Argent's abandoned warehouse, when I had overheard Chris and Satomi talking about what the mantra her pack used to stay in control really meant.

Liam seemed to register Stiles' voice, pausing for a moment to look over at him before he made another lunge for Derek, a snarl tearing up his throat.

"Liam," I called over his animalistic sounds, causing his startling yellow eyes to meet mine. "Look at me, okay? Listen to my voice. What three things cannot long be hidden?" Liam growled low in response, jerking out of Derek's hold to grab me by the wrist, his grip so tight I was sure my bones were going to break under the pressure.

Stiles immediately lunged forward to help me, but I shook my head at him. "Let me do this," I told him.

"Joey—"

"I can get through to him," I insisted. Stiles nodded, moving back reluctantly, and I turned my attention to Liam. "Liam, calm down," I instructed through a wince, my voice straining tight as I tried to block out the pain. His claws dug into my wrist, puncturing my skin, and I whimpered as a thin stream of blood ran down my arm. "Liam, please, you're hurting me."

His grip instantly loosened, his brilliant yellow eyes widening as he really_ looked_ at me.

I slowly removed my wrist from his grasp and hesitantly cupped his face into my hands. "Liam, what three things cannot long be hidden?" I asked softly, willing him to concentrate on me. "What three things?"

"The sun, the moon, the truth," Liam finally answered, causing relief to flood through me as his eyes faded to a calm blue.

"Say it again," Stiles encouraged.

"The sun, the moon, the truth," Liam repeated in deep breaths.

He leaned forward, exhausted, and I found myself meeting him halfway, gently touching my forehead to his. He continued to chant the mantra to himself as I soothed my thumbs over his cheekbones, doing what I could to help him calm down.

"Derek?" Braeden questioned in concern.

"We're okay," he assured her.

Liam pulled away some to look at me with gleaming crystal blue eyes. "I never said I was sorry," he panted out.

"For what?" I asked in faint confusion.

"The night at Lydia's lake house," Liam explained in a voice just above a whisper. "I never said I was sorry for hurting you, but I am." He paused for a moment, shaking his head. "And I didn't want to do it again. As soon as I realized I was hurting you . . . it was like, a weight inside me, bringing me back and reminding me of my human side."

"Like an anchor," Derek supplied, causing me to glance over at him with furrowed eyebrows. He was staring at me and Liam with an unreadable expression. "You're his anchor, Joey."

My eyes snapped back to Liam's in surprise and his gaze drifted away from mine as a soft blush colored his cheeks. Not knowing what to say, I leaned forward the tiniest bit and lightly pressed my lips against Liam's in a gentle kiss, trying to convey the ocean of emotions inside me into one feeling—love.

There was no doubt in my mind; I felt pure, unconditional _love_ for this boy. I knew it in my heart, with each beat that echoed Liam's name.

I was head over heels in love with Liam Dunbar.

Maybe it was too fast, maybe it was too sudden, but over the course of the last few weeks, I'd forged a bond with Liam—an emotional tether that would connect us in this moment for the rest of our lives—and he made me feel _safe_ for the first time in nearly two years.

I didn't know what else to call it but love.

Liam was the first to pull away from the kiss, a lopsided grin quirking at the corners of his mouth, and I allowed myself to wonder for a moment if he felt the same way I did.

The van suddenly lurched to a stop and I leaned around Liam a bit to peer out the windshield at the building we'd parked in front of.

La Iglesia.

The abandoned church looked the same as it did a month ago—crumbling to shambles of rock with two identical towers that cast shadows over the ruins of the town that once was—when we had taken the trip down to find Derek.

"I can't believe I did it," Liam said, releasing a short laugh. "For a minute there, I thought I was going to tear the three of you apart."

"Yeah, that would of made for an awkward ride home, so thanks," Stiles responded with his usual dose of sarcasm.

"Do you think you can bring the same level of control and strength inside La Iglesia?" Derek questioned.

Instead of answering verbally, Liam threw his hand out, displaying his sharp claws.

"I think we might actually be able to do this," Stiles said with a slightly impressed expression.

Derek gave a short nod of agreement before he stood up, being the one to usually take the lead in these kinds of situations. Though he wasn't a werewolf anymore, he still demonstrated the same self-assurance—the same strength—as he had before and I admired him for it. I couldn't imagine losing who I was and starting over again as someone new.

Making his way to the back of the van, Derek opened the doors, and I heard the creature before I saw it—the chilling sound of an all too familiar growl.

Derek was yanked from the van and viciously thrown to the ground before I could even blink. I gasped at the daunting sight of the berserker and instinctively scooted backward toward Liam, who watching the disastrous events unfold with eyes wider than mine.

The berserker lifted Derek into the air and slammed him down onto the remains of a stone wall, snapping me out of my paralyzed state.

"Derek!" I cried as I scrambled forward, only to be held back by Stiles and Liam.

As I helplessly watched the berserker tear into Derek with a crescent-shaped claw made out of bone, I suddenly wished I hadn't left my bow in Stiles' jeep. I hated feeling defenseless—I _hated_ not being able to protect the people I cared about, a trait I must have inherited from Scott.

A gunshot echoed out and my head whipped to where Braeden had emerged from the driver's side of the van with a shotgun in hand. She mercilessly fired round after round at the berserker and I quickly shielded my eyes at the bright flash of light that accompanied the rapid gunfire. I felt Liam's arms go around my waist and shoulders, pulling me to him and covering as much as my body from the danger as he could. I hid my face in his chest, jumping at the sound of each gunshot.

Once I could no longer hear Braeden shooting, I hesitantly drew away from Liam and turned around.

Derek was sitting on the ground, propped against the stone wall with Braeden kneeling beside him. I felt something akin to dread grip at my heart once I noticed the bloody wound on Derek's side.

I pushed myself out of Liam's grasp and stumbled out of the van behind a wide-eyed Stiles, who instinctively reached down to grab my hand. Recognizing the expression of fear on his face, I simply squeezed back as hard as I could, making sure he knew I was right there.

"How bad is it?" Peter asked as he and Malia rushed out of their car.

I looked over at the older Hale, and for the first time since I met him, I saw genuine emotion on his face as he stared over at his injured nephew.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Derek answered quickly, though anyone could see he was the opposite. "J-Just get to Scott." No one moved—not even an inch as we all looked around at each other, not entirely sure what to do. The last time I had seen something like this, it was Allison taking her last breath in Scott's arms. "Just find him," Derek pushed. "We'll be right behind you—go." We all stood our ground, reluctant to leave him. "Go!"

Peter was the first to turn away as he jogged toward the entrance of the ancient church, followed by Malia and Liam. Stiles and I stayed firmly in our places, watching the different expressions of pain cross Derek's face as he fought through it.

"Joey," Derek choked out through panted breaths. "Save him."

With tears beginning to brim my eyes, I nodded in a silent promise before I felt Stiles start to tug on my hand, leading me in the same direction Peter, Malia, and Liam had disappeared in. Stiles stopped one last time, staring at Derek over his shoulder for a moment before he began to move again with me trailing behind him.

It was time to find Scott.

x

**A/N:** This chapter has me emotional, guys, _so_ many things happened. Big things happened.

I hope you enjoyed it! It was super long (like, 5000 words), which is why it took me so long to update. However, I did make it long on purpose because it's sort of like, the big lead up to the next chapter where the action really begins and more emotional stuff ensues. Also, people were commenting on Stiles and Joey's close brother-sister relationship, which I also did on purpose, because their relationship is going to be significant for the sequel.

While I'm on the sequel topic, many people have also been asking about Hayden and how she's going to fit into this story and what's going to happen. I do like Hayden's character, so she's not going to get crap in my story, but I don't have all the details planned out yet and I don't want to spoil stuff. However, the concept of season five _is_ the pack falling apart and drifting away from each other (which we can see happening right now, it breaks my heart, but it's happening) so that should give you a_ little_ clue, but that's all I'm going to say. It's not going to be what you expect.

If you have suggestions or ideas or just what you would like to see in the sequel, let me know and I'll definitely take it into consideration! :)

Anyways, as always, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed last chapter and continues to read, favorite, and follow! I know I say this on every update, but I just really want all of you to know how much I appreciate you and all the support you've blessed me with on this story. Your opinions and comments mean a lot to me and I always enjoy reading your reviews because you're all super sweet!

Now, you are free to go back to eating ice cream and crying over the container about Teen Wolf.


	21. The Final Battle

chapter twenty-one:  
_the final battle_

* * *

I carefully slipped through the narrow, cracked entryway of La Iglesia and stepped into the ruins of the church. Moonlight streamed into the room through gaping holes in ceiling, the soft glow illuminating the crushed pews and the dusty piles of rubble that covered the floors. I felt a chill shake me as I looked around at the broken remains of a place that was once filled with life.

"This way," Peter directed, beginning to head toward the opening of a darkened tunnel.

Stiles let go of my hand and gave me a small nod of reassurance before he went on ahead of me to catch up with Peter. Trailing close after Liam with Malia behind me, I vaguely wondered how Peter knew where he was going, but eventually brushed the thought away as we journeyed farther and farther into the heart of La Iglesia.

The tunnel was spotted with moonlight just as the previous room was, but was still rather dim, making it a challenge for me not to trip over my own feet as I hurried to keep up with Liam. Instinctively, I found myself reaching for his hand as the stone walls—covered in some form of ivy—on either side of me looked like they might crumble in on us at any second.

"Okay, stop, stop, stop!" Peter shouted as he abruptly skidded to a halt, causing the rest of us to crash into each other like dominoes, one after the other. With his arms held out in front of him, Peter turned around to face us as we stumbled to regain our balance. "We need to figure out where we are," he said. "And then figure out how to find Scott and Kira."

Peter twisted his body slightly to peer around the corner, and I used this moment of rest to my advantage, taking the opportunity to gulp down some air as I tried to even out my breathing.

The faint beeping of a cell phone echoed throughout the quiet tunnel, causing Peter to turn back around. Leaning forward slightly, I looked around Liam to see Stiles frantically rummaging through his pockets. I watched him pull out his phone and glance down at the caller I.D. in disbelief.

"How do I even have service?" he muttered before he quickly slid his thumb across the glowing screen and brought the device up to his ear, taking a few steps away from us. "Hi, Dad." I nearly winced at the muffled sound of the Sheriff's voice. "Okay, um, I know you're angry . . . well, when I get back, you can ground me."

Being the only one present without supernatural hearing abilities, I couldn't decipher what the Sheriff was saying, but by the expressions crossing Stiles' face, I assumed the conversation wasn't going well.

"Do you want me to lie?" Stiles then asked, his eyes flickering back to the rest of us. There was another muffled response from Sheriff before Stiles began to speak once more. "Lydia's at the school. We called Mason to look for her, but now we're not hearing back from either of them." He let out an uncertain sigh. "I don't know, Dad, I don't know what I'm doing. I'm just trying to save my friends." I felt my eyes soften with sympathy as Stiles met my gaze. "Dad, if it's one of the berserkers at the school, you're going to need firepower—a lot."

Leaving it at that, Stiles disconnected the call and walked back over to stand beside Peter.

"What do we do now?" Liam asked, looking down at me.

Malia glanced over at us, probably wondering the same thing, before her brown eyes went wide. "Duck!" she shouted, reaching an arm across me and Liam to shove us down as a bone-covered hand crashed into the wall, narrowly missing all three of our heads. She pushed me ahead of her and I lost my grip on Liam's hand as I stumbled to gain my footing enough to run after Stiles and Peter.

The heels of my riding boots slapped the ground hard as I stayed on Peter's heels, my heart pounding in my chest as adrenaline coursed through my veins. All I could hear was the terrifying rumble of growls behind me and I didn't dare glance back at what was chasing us, already knowing what creature I'd see.

I continued to push my legs to move faster, feeling a sense of déjà vu as I remembered the night at the high school over a year ago when Scott, Stiles, and I had been running from Peter in his vicious alpha wolf form.

"In here!" I heard Stiles yell out before we were all taking a sharp turn into another room. There were stone pillars everywhere and old antiques scattered all over the floor, covered in layers of dust. Before I could stop to think, Stiles called out to me in a rush. "Joey, come on!"

"Joey, go with him," Malia urged hurriedly, tossing me Kira's katana. "Go find your brother."

Gripping the sword tight in my hands, I hesitated as I locked gazes with Liam. I didn't want to leave him, especially with a berserker, but I couldn't just let Stiles wander around on his own. He'd been a second brother to me my entire life and I would never forgive myself if something happened to him.

Liam stared at me, his crystal blue eyes speaking volumes of words I hoped I'd get to hear him say someday. "Go," he told me firmly with a nod toward Stiles. The room then shook with a distance growl, causing pieces of stone to fall from the ceiling. "Go _now_, Joey."

I backed away slowly—reluctantly—before I turned around entirely and followed after Stiles as he rushed through an arch-shaped opening leading into another tunnel. I glanced over my shoulder, getting a glimpse of Malia and Liam preparing themselves to fight the berserker bursting into the room, before I forced myself to look away as I jogged to catch up with Stiles.

I followed close behind him as he waved his flashlight around in the darkness. "Scott?" he called out, his voice echoing into the seemingly endless tunnel.

"Kira?" I shouted.

The shuffling of rocks sounded from beside us, and Stiles moved back closer to me as we both froze in place, listening carefully for the possible threat.

I heard him inhale sharply before he abruptly shined the flashlight to our left.

I breathed out a sigh of relief at the sight of Kira, but my worry rushed back the second I noticed the blood on her forehead and at the corner of her mouth. Her black hair was a matted mess, her clothes were disheveled, and she suffered a slight limp as she walked toward us on wobbly legs.

"Are you okay?" Stiles asked as we met her halfway.

"It's Scott, Stiles. It's _Scott_," Kira spluttered.

"What?" Stiles questioned, his voice barely audible as he stared at Kira in alarm.

"The _berserker_. It's him. Kate did it."

My blood ran cold. "Kira, what are you talking about?" I pressed as my heart started to beat at a panicked pace.

It couldn't be Scott. He couldn't be one of those things—one of those _monsters_.

Kira shook her head, swallowing tightly. "She made him into one of them, Joey. I don't know how, but it's him," she clarified. "And if they don't know it, they could kill him."

I could feel myself go numb. "That's why Lydia's not here," I heard Stiles voice say, but it was muffled and sort of floaty, like I was listening to him talk underwater. The walls surrounding me were starting to spin and my vision was beginning to blur. "They won't know they're killing Scott."

The words shook me to the core and suddenly everything came back into focus as clear as crystal.

_They won't know they're killing Scott_.

Before I even realized I'd moved, I was turning and running.

I could vaguely hear Stiles calling after me, but my mind was screaming, _Scott. Scott. It's Scott_, and I couldn't listen to anything else as I sprinted down the tunnels back to where we'd left Malia, Peter, and Liam. My heart was thumping at an untamed, erratic speed and my breathing was loud and labored, but my physical state did nothing to deter me as I ran faster than I ever had in my life.

I stumbled into the room within seconds, and my eyes blew wide, my heart nearly stopping at the sight of Malia about to strike a fatal blow to my brother's head with a bone dagger. "_Stop_!" I screamed, and Kira flew in from behind me, drawing her katana to slash the knife right from Malia's hand.

With heavy breaths, I watched the sharp piece clatter to the dusty floor before I looked over at Kira in mix of relief and astonishment. I didn't even remember handing her sword back to her.

Malia gaped at us—I could tell by her expression she thought we were betraying her again—just as Stiles entered the room in a rush of flailing limbs, coming to a stop beside me. "It's Scott," he stated, a look of trepidation spreading across his face. He placed a hand on my shoulder as he looked around at our friends. "It's Scott."

Liam's distressed blue eyes met my gaze and I nodded faintly, confirming what Stiles had said was the truth. Looking back to Scott with furrowed eyebrows, Liam squinted slightly and peered into the mask of the berserker. I didn't have to look to know my brother's warm brown eyes would stare back at him.

In our moment of hesitation, Scott knocked both Peter and Liam away from him, punching Malia with enough force to send her to the ground. The berserker that used to be my brother then turned and approached us with hulking steps as Liam weakly scrambled backward along the floor, staring up at Scott with fearful eyes.

"Scott?" Kira questioned as he strode past her without a glance. Her katana was poised in front her, prepared to fight if necessary. "Scott, don't!"

I hurriedly knelt down beside Liam, trying to help him to his feet as Stiles shuffled in front of us, moving warily toward Scott.

"Scott, it's me," he tried, but was backhanded into silence. Stiles narrowly deflected the blow with his arms as he soared backward and fell to the floor.

"Stiles?" I questioned in concern, turning my head to look at him.

Stiles eyes widened as he gazed behind me. "Joey, watch out!" he shouted in warning, and I whipped around just as Scott grabbed a hold of Liam, shoving him into one of the stone pillars by the throat.

"Scott, no, _please_!" I screamed, tears beginning to blur my vision as I watched helplessly from the ground as Liam struggled in my brother's tight grip. "Please don't hurt him!" Scott raised his fist, and despite Stiles' shouts of protest, I scrambled up to my feet, wrapping my hands around Scott's bone-covered arm as I gazed into the mask of the monster he was trapped inside. "Scott," I whimpered.

"Scott, listen! Listen," Liam pleaded, taking advantage of Scott's hesitation, causing him to turn his head back to Liam. "You're not a monster. You're a _werewolf_." Liam's breaths were heavy and anxious as he repeated the words Scott had said to him—the words that made him accept himself as he was. "Like me."

I stared at my brother in wide-eyed wonder as he slowly lowered Liam to the ground and staggered backward away from us. I quickly reached out to steady Liam as he stumbled slightly off balance and our gazes clashed for a brief moment before we both turned to look at Scott along with everyone else.

He began to shed the bone armor of the berserker, dropping each piece to the floor, until only the mask of the bear skull remained. Scott gripped it on either side with both hands and pulled with the strength of an alpha. The skull cracked down the middle and the tear in the bone glowed a vibrant yellow as it was broken in half to reveal my brother's face—his features shifted into those of a wolf and his eyes a luminescent red.

I trembled in Liam's arms as Scott released a booming roar, shaking the stone walls around us and causing debris to fall from the ceiling as he threw the broken pieces of the berserker mask to the dusty floor.

My brother's howl rumbled into a low growl as he tilted his head down to glare at the one person I'd never trusted: Peter.

"_You_," Scott snarled as he stepped forward. I slowly followed the gazes of my friends as we all turned to stare at the oldest Hale with mixed expressions of weariness and surprise. "The only one who knew as much as Argent about berserkers—about the nahual. _You_ taught Kate. You helped her. All for _power_."

"For my _family's_ power," Peter bellowed, sounding just as infuriated as Scott looked. I found myself instinctively coiling into Liam at the pure malic I heard dripping from Peter's words like venom from a snake. "To be rightfully inherited by _me_. Not usurped by some _idiot _teenage boy so incorruptible he wouldn't shed the blood of his enemies even when justified. You don't deserve your power. Not power like this." His last words held a dark, animalistic undertone as his face began to distort into a wolf-like creature that reminded me vaguely of Deucalion.

Peter's eyes shined the icy, brilliant blue of a killer as he fully shifted into his werewolf form. A roar tore up his throat, but before he had the chance to attack Scott, Malia growled and prepared to lunge at him. Peter snarled and used one hand to send her flying into a wall across the room.

"Malia!" I shouted reflexively, taking a step in her direction, only to be held in my place by Liam.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Peter apologized mockingly. "We'll talk about this later."

He returned his glaring eyes to Scott, and Kira drew her katana for the second time that night, preparing herself to defend my brother.

"Kira!" Scott called out before she could attack Peter.

Kira hesitated, but eventually gave a look of understanding and stood down.

This had to be Scott's fight.

"You were _my _beta first, Scott. It was my bite that changed your life," Peter spoke in a low growl, the sadistic gleam in his eyes sending a chill through me. "And it's my bite that can end it."

"Then end it, Peter," Scott challenged. "Because you won't get another chance."

The two werewolves let out deafening roars and ran head-to-head, leaping into the air to attack one another. The vicious battle commenced with a series of snarls, scratches, punches, and kicks. Liam tensed each time Scott was knocked down and prepared himself to intervene as we watched anxiously from the sidelines, but I held tight to his arm, keeping him safely in place beside me where—for the time being—we were out of harm's way.

The blue mutation of a werewolf Peter had transformed into grabbed Scott by the arm, swinging him around and tossing him into a stone pillar—an impact that would have broken a human's spine. "Come on, Scott," Peter taunted. "Fight like an alpha." After being thrown into two more columns, Scott gained the upper hand, slamming Peter to the floor and repeatedly ramming his fist down into his chest. Peter retaliated worse than before, landing a few punches to Scott's body before he grabbed him by the neck and shoulder. "If you want to beat me, you're going to have to _kill me_!"

Peter flung Scott high into the wall, and my hand clamped over my mouth to stifle a gasp as he bounced off the stone barrier, slamming to the ground with a grunt of pain.

Liam stepped forward in concern, and I followed after him, grasping his hand to halt his movements. Peter's head then whipped around to face us and I wanted nothing more than to cower away as his icy eyes studied us.

"The beta and the alpha's sister," he spoke derisively. "How cute."

Then, without hesitation, Peter lifted a pew and hurled the wooden structure toward us. Liam tugged harshly on my hand, yanking me down to the floor and bringing his arms around my shoulders just as it crashed into the corner of a nearby pillar, the old wood breaking into pieces. I kept my head ducked, huddled against Liam as I felt the debris of the pew rain over us.

With my heart pounding in my chest, I hesitantly drew away from Liam and looked over at Scott with wide, frightened eyes.

Scott stared back, his gaze shifting between me and Liam before he let out a growl, pushing up to his feet to face Peter. He rose to stand as Peter advanced on him once more, but this time was different. Scott looked menacing in the best possible way as he effortlessly deflected every single punch Peter threw at him.

Scott motions blurred with the speed at which he moved, and then, in one swift swing of his arm, my brother sent the former alpha soaring through the air with a final punch to the jaw.

Peter flew backward over the table of bones, crashing into a dusty pile of wood on the other side of the room.

With the moonlight fanning around him, Scott leaped onto the table and scowled down at Peter. "You were never an alpha, Peter," Scott told him somberly. "But you were always a monster."

Snarling in response, Peter tried to rise once more, but Scott jumped from the table, his fist colliding with Peter's face and knocking him unconscious.

The five of us—Malia, Kira, Stiles, Liam, and I—cautiously moved forward as Scott turned to face us. With dirt smudged on his face and blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth, he walked closer to me, but didn't say anything and he didn't need to.

I wrapped my arms around him, pressing my cheek against his chest with a smile on my face as I felt his arms wind around my shoulders, returning the warm embrace.

The final battle was over.

And we'd won.

x

**A/N: **There's one more chapter left and I can't even express how excited I am. As corny as it sounds, this has honestly been such a journey for me. Developing Joey's character and her relationship with Liam has been so much fun and I can't wait to continue their story in the sequel!

Teen Wolf has been my favorite show for years and maybe I'm a little too emotionally invested in the characters, but it's so much fun to write this because I feel like I'm a part of the show.

I don't know what else to say but thank you. Thank you for supporting me and supporting this story with such kind and positive words.

Also, like I mentioned in the last chapter, if there's anything specific you'd like to see happen in the sequel or in a specific episode from season five, let me know in a review and I'll try my best to include your suggestions!

Let me know what you thought of this chapter and I'll be sure to have the next one up ASAP! :)


	22. The Best She Ever Had

chapter twenty-two:  
_the best she ever had_

* * *

The towers of La Iglesia were washed in the radiant gold sunlight of the morning, the Mexico sky blue and cloudless at the dawn of a new day.

I stood by my brother's side in front of the church ruins, dusty and a bit scraped up, preparing myself to part ways with the man I considered my second father.

"There's enough yellow wolfsbane to keep Peter out for the trip back, but be careful," Chris warned.

"Are you really going with them?" I whispered, my gaze momentarily shifting to the group of werewolf hunters gathered behind the second eldest Argent.

"I made a deal with the Calaveras weeks ago," Chris explained gently. "They'll leave you alone—all of you, but only if I help them catch Kate."

A chill went through me at the mention of Allison's aunt. Kate was dangerous and vengeful, and I would never feel completely safe until she was caught.

"What if you can't?" Kira wondered softly from her place on the other side of Scott.

"We'll find her," Chris promised. "Someone has to."

Before he could turn away, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around his torso, burying my face in his chest as I felt him return my hug. I was grateful he was doing this for me — for Scott and our friends, but it didn't mean I wouldn't miss him any less. Allison was gone and now I was being forced to let Chris go too, even if it was just temporarily.

"You be careful, too," I told him as we broke apart.

Chris cracked a smile. "Only if you keep this one out of trouble," he responded, gesturing toward Scott, who grinned at us.

"I will," I assured him. There was a pause, a moment of silence that told me time had run out. "What am I going to do without you?"

"You'll be okay," Chris said. "Allison taught you well, and this won't be the last time we'll see each other."

I nodded, a small smile pulling at the edges of my lips. "I know."

Chris nodded in return and slowly turned his back to me, joining the Calaveras. I stepped back so I was standing beside Scott once more, my eyes never straying from Chris as he piled into the hunter's SUV, dust blowing into the air around them.

As my brother wrapped an arm around Kira, I felt Stiles move beside me, followed by Malia next to him, and Liam behind me. His hand reached forward for mine and I immediately wrapped my hand in his, grateful he was there with me.

A hand then touched my cheek, and I glanced over at Stiles, who was staring down at me with concerned brown eyes. "You okay?" he questioned quietly.

"I will be," I promised him.

Stiles nodded in acceptance of my answer and dropped his hand from my cheek, his gaze shifting over my head as he looked at Scott.

I glanced between the pair — the unbreakable duo — thankful I had two people with one of the strongest bonds to watch over me. I knew they would always be there for each other, and they would always be there for me.

After Chris, Derek was the next to go, and gradually, we all made our way toward Deputy Parrish's large police car to start the journey home. Stiles (as always) called shotgun, Kira and Scott took the back, while Liam and I settled into the third row seating.

He wordlessly put his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close to his side. I leaned into him and rested my head on his chest, fatigue washing over me like a tidal wave.

"I'm really glad you're okay," I murmured once we were on the road.

"I'm really glad you're okay, too," Liam whispered in response, his lips brushing my forehead in a barely there kiss.

I smiled contently and closed my eyes.

I realized as long as we head each other, nothing would be able to break us.

* * *

We arrived home to find Beacon Hills was still the same way we left it. There was no power-hungry alpha, no werewolf hunters, no assassins, and no deadpool.

We were okay—well, as far as the supernatural went.

My three favorite boys had to face a much more dangerous threat.

Coach Bobby Finstock.

During my free period, I sat patiently on the stairs by Coach's office where Liam and I had first met, nervously playing with a spiral of the notebook in my lap as I awaited the fate of the trio.

After nearly twenty nerve-wracking minutes, Finstock emerged from the locker room, followed by Stiles, Scott, and Liam.

"Joey," Coach called over to me, causing my gaze to flicker to him in surprise. He rarely ever addressed me, and definitely not by my first name. "I trust you'll keep these boys in line for me?"

My eyes moved over Scott, Stiles, and Liam. I felt myself smile as the three of them stared back at me with expectant expressions. They were the best I ever had.

I returned my gaze to Finstock with a small nod. "I will, Coach."

Scott and Stiles sent me gracious looks as he retreated back into the locker room. They each gave Liam a pat to the shoulder before they disappeared around the corner of the hallway, most likely going to find Kira and Malia, leaving me alone with our newest werewolf.

"You survived Bobby Finstock," I noted softly.

Liam shot me a grin as he sat down beside me. "I did," he agreed, his eyes locking onto mine.

I was sure the intensity of his gaze was slowly beginning to burn my cheeks a pink color, but I couldn't bring myself to look away. "You're practically invincible now," I joked.

"Well," Liam started, sliding closer until his lips were nothing more than a whisper away from mine. "I do have one weakness." Before I could respond, Liam leaned in and captured my lips in a soft kiss, one hand cupping my cheek. He pulled away excruciatingly slow, a lazy smirk on his face. "Josephine Olivia McCall," he murmured, "do you want to go out with me on Friday?"

My chocolate-brown eyes widened. "Like a—"

"Date," Liam finished.

I bit my lip, trying to stop myself from grinning like an idiot. "I would love to," I told him sincerely.

Liam beamed me and leaned in once more.

"I _knew _it!"

"Oh, no," Liam muttered automatically at the sound of Mason's voice, dropping his head onto my shoulder.

I let out a laugh and turned to see Mason heading down the hallway in our direction, a gigantic, triumphant grin plastered on his face.

_Oh, no_ was right.

x

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Anddd that's a wrap! Behind Pretty Eyes is officially finished. I cannot express how grateful I am for all of you. You are the best readers and there's no way I would have had the motivation to complete this without your unconditional support. This story is the first one I've ever finished and I'm honestly really proud of the way it turned out and I can't wait to start working on the sequel. I have the cover made and the title picked out already haha.

I don't know when I'll have it posted, it might be this month, it might be the beginning of January. December is always busy for me, but I'll try my best to work on it consistently.

Also, if you have anything you'd like to see happen in the sequel or any suggestions for me, let me know :)


	23. SEQUEL

THE SEQUEL TO BEHIND PRETTY EYES HAS BEEN PUBLISHED!

I KNOW I LITERALLY TOOK FOREVER, BUT IT'S FINALLY HERE AND I'M SO EXCITED.

THE SEQUEL IS CALLED "INSTINCT" AND I HOPE ALL OF YOU ENJOY THE RIDE I'M ABOUT TO TAKE YOU ON :)


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